Doubt
by superstikman
Summary: One man's day job quickly becomes far more than he bargained for when he gets drawn deep into an exciting new world, and makes an interesting friend along the way.  Occasional strong language, some moderate violence.  Renamon/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**Foreword**_

_I've not really seen a lot of Digimon, so forgive the stuff that's not exactly as it should be. This was actually meant to be a completely different and original story along a similar theme, but then I found Digimon and realised it would work better as a fanfic, so here it is :)_

_T for occasional strong language, pretty harmless other than that._

* * *

><p>Jason awoke early, well before his alarm was due to go off. He cursed the jetlag that plagued him, for the past two days he had suffered it acutely, this was the third morning he had woken early and feeling grouchy. He fumbled around on the desk beside the simple cot he was sleeping on, feeling for the lightswitch. Through the tiny glass window above his head there was a feeble light just beginning to spill past the edges of the dark green blind.<p>

"Argh," he groaned involuntarily as the sharp light of the fluorescent tube in the ceiling burnt the back of his sensitive eyes. He was in a tiny room, lying on the only bed, pressed up against the whitewashed brick wall. The only other pieces of furniture were a small metal chest beside the bed and a folding metal chair by the door. On the table lay his only possessions, a wallet, phone and laptop. A few clothes spilled out of a rucksack on the cold, hard concrete floor beside the bed.

He suppressed a shiver as his bare feet touched the ground, it was as cold as ice and about as featureless. No carpet, no tiles, not even a layer of paint, just concrete. It was all he came to expect from a military installation. From what he could gather he was lucky to have a room to himself.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and slipped his ID card over his head and around his neck, it seemed silly to have to carry it everywhere but the facility was extremely security conscious and to even leave his room he needed it. What happened during a power failure was anybody's guess. He showered with it as regulations insisted he did and then resented it even more when the fabric of the strap held the water and slowly let it leak out over the course of the morning.

Breakfast was served in a canteen every bit as spartan as the room in which he had slept for two nights, the lines of long metal tables reminded him of a prison, and if he was honest with himself he realised that he was little more than a prisoner, formally a civilian consultant working for the government. The canteen's lights were set low except in a corner where their motion sensors detected the only other person up at that time. Jason recognised him and collected some porridge and toast from the warmed counter before sitting opposite him without a word.

"Morning," the man grunted, barely even looking up from his unappealing meal.

"Is it even morning yet?" he responded, humourlessly. "It feels barely past last night. I don't know how you can sleep in this place, Mack."

Mack Bailey was a large man, well muscled and built for fighting. He had been a marine in theUSarmy since he was old enough to join up and had only been transferred to the counter-digimon task force a few weeks before Jason arrived. He was a computer genius, they said, although Jason had yet to see any real evidence. What he had seen, however, was that he was a very capable gamer, something that a year earlier nobody would ever have thought to be a valuable vocation.

"Used to it," he grunted, still absorbed in his meagre meal. Jason assumed that the army made you like that, stripped away your desire to talk for talking's sake. Bailey was a man of few words.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," he said ruefully, stirring the porridge with a spoon. It had been sitting out on the counter for a while already and had started to congeal. He couldn't imagine how much worse it would be in another hour when he was supposed to have been eating it. In fact, he said to himself, he could imagine it because he had sampled it on his first morning.

"What was your frag count last night?" the ex-marine asked, his voice flat and seemingly uninterested in the reply.

"Thirty four," he replied eagerly, anxious to show off how well he was doing on only his second run. Bailey grunted and his pride deflated slightly. "Two of them were bigguns, as well, ultimates, at least. What about you?"

"Stopped countin' at ninety," he said, his voice still flat and monotone. Jason studied his face, there was the barest hint of amusement there, he thought.

"Show off," he said with a grin, hoping to at least get a small smile back. There was no response. Bailey stood and picked up his tray, then with a slight nod in Jason's direction he strode off across the canteen, dumping his tray on the counter and disappearing from the room. His footsteps echoed hollowly.

Jason sighed, he had only met a few of the other operatives so far and those he had met were either on different shifts to him or just plain uninterested, like Bailey. There was no sense trying to savour his breakfast, he was too tired and grouchy and it was hardly anything worth savouring in the first place so he shovelled the rapidly cooling slop into his mouth and got the experience over with as soon as possible.

That day's shift was his first chance to go out alone, to play the game solo. His first two jaunts had been tailing someone else, a more experienced young woman called Samantha who seemed equally uninterested in him. Upon entering the virtual world she immediately ran off before Jason had even had chance to get to grips with the control system at the terminal he was on. He had to learn fast and struggled to keep up with her at first, even though she claimed to be going slowly for his benefit. When he finally had caught up with her she had already encountered a selection of low level digimon and had disposed of them all, depriving him of the experience he needed. When they were attacked again later he was overcome immediately, not knowing any of the moves or attacks he was expected to be using. She had shown little interest until his avatar had been shredded and he was dumped back out of the interface. Only then did she realise that she may have made a mistake and they were both given a stern talking to by the commander of the unit they were in.

To enter the virtual world they needed some sort of avatar that they could control and that could interact with the world. The procedures needed to do such a thing were complicated, injecting code into the "digital dimension" was very difficult. He knew this because he had been largely responsible for finding out how to do it in the first place, mostly the reason he was now trapped in a military installation somewhere in the southernUSA. "Dying" had cost them all time and money, and got them into trouble to boot. Samantha went slower after that incident, and attempted to help him out until he learnt his own way. Her fighting style was vicious and quick, during one bout he risked glancing away from his screens to look at her across the room, the flickering lights of the monitors all around her casting her face into deep, twisted shadows. Her lips had been drawn back from her teeth and her usually pretty face was a picture of psychopathic anger. He found he was actually afraid of her, and more than a little intrigued.

Today, however, he was able to go off on his own, and would not need to worry about her. He would have the chance to show them what he was capable of. The first two days had been very illuminating, he had achieved a firm grasp of the control system and even though the avatars they controlled were primitive, blocky things his understanding of the rules of the game allowed him to fight quite effectively. He need not have felt so ashamed of his low kill-count, if people had been keeping accurate logs then he would have seen that for a rookie on his third day anything over ten kills was almost unheard of.

His task was simple, the issue at hand was the sheer amount of processing time and bandwidth that the simulation was consuming at the expense of the rest of the world's computing needs. The size of the simulated world and the number of complex entities in it were directly related to this metric, so removing sections of the world alleviated the problem they were having. The ultimate goal was to remove the entire thing and hope that without anything to seed it no more would grow. It seemed that new areas of the virtualised universe appeared only next to existing pieces, there were never any instances of non-interconnected pieces of space. This was something they hoped to use to their advantage. Jason and his colleagues would attempt to cleanse an area of digimon and then mark it off for deletion by placing special markers around a small area. When ready, these beacons would detonate and leave a manageable island of virtual space that semi-automated crews of disassemblers would take apart piece by piece, returning their runtimes to the human networks. It was important to remove as many digimon as possible since they would invariably attack the disassembly crews and hinder their work.

Jason turned his avatar around slowly in a circle, taking in the breathtaking virtual world around him. Under his imaginary feet the textures rendered on the ground indicated that he was standing on a meadow of thick, long grass. Small, blocky flowers dotted the area around him, stopping some way into the distance as the renderer decided it was not worth drawing such small items in the distance. To one side a thin forest was growing, formed of strange trees with regular branches that split in fractal patterns, each twig ending in a green blob to signify leaves. In reality the trees were far more complicated than that but to keep the amount of data they needed to extract from the net down to a minimum some assumptions and simplifications were used. Most of the time they were not an issue, it was rare for anything of consequence to hang on whether a tree had a hundred branches or a thousand, it was only important to know that the tree was there at all.

Over to his other side the meadow stretched off into the distance, bushes and occasional trees spotted here and there as if someone had sprinkled them from a giant salt grinder. Beyond them a range of large hills rose up into the sky, blocking any further view. Their peaks glittered with virtualised snow, rendered very inaccurately. Jason tested out his controls, making sure everything was correct. His avatar twitched and jumped on screen in a dance that made little sense to the handful of electronic creatures that were watching him quietly from their vantage point atop a rocky outcropping nearby, biding their time and squawking to one another quietly.

He stepped forwards, hearing the synthesized whisper of grass under his feet. In the bottom corner of his screen a small map had appeared, superimposed on the view. It showed the area he had been working with Samantha the previous day, a stylised top-down view of the immediate terrain with a set of glowing red lines indicating the area they had already marked off. There were only a few more markers to be placed, so his task would be find any of the wild digimon that they had missed before finishing the boundary and signing off for the day. He checked around himself nervously one more time, sometimes it was difficult to remember that despite all its appearances it was not actually a game and losing here would mean a whole lot of work for somebody to put him back together again. Up on the rock the digimon were aware of none of this and simple prepared to move and follow, rubbing a their forelegs together in an insect-like manner before skittering down the rockface.

Just as Jason was unaware of the attention his stalkers were giving him, they were in turn unaware of another's gaze upon them. From the shadows of a tree two piercingly blue eyes followed their progress with an icy calm. Abruptly they vanished and a quick observer would have seen a flash of yellow leap in a great bound across the landscape, hopping from cover to cover and always keeping carefully out of sight. A hunter, stalking her prey.

Jason hummed to himself as he worked to cover the ground inside his area. He held a glittering machete in one pixellated arm and was using it to slash away at undergrowth that got in his way. All the time he kept a careful watch on the small proximity display on one of the monitors to his side, wary about anything unexpected sneaking up on him. There were only meant to be small, weak digimon in the area but even so they could do some damage to his virtual body if he was not paying attention.

"Jesus, man, can you stop that sodding humming!" yelled Samantha from across the room, glaring at him. He smiled weakly and apologised, taking his eyes off the monitors just long enough to miss a blip from his sensor readout. When he turned his eyes back to the screen he nearly fell off his chair from shock as a small green thing with far too many teeth appeared in mid-leap. He cried out aloud and mashed the attack key on his controller, bringing his avatar's arm around in a vicious swipe. Unfortunately he was slightly too slow to catch the attacker with the bladed part of the weapon and instead knocked it to one side with his fist, dealing far less damage. The vegetable based digimon was up on its root-like feet again in a split-second and leaping for him with a hiss.

Jason put one arm up to defend himself while back-peddling to get out of the way, all the time scrabbling at the keyboard on his left to get the codex program up on another terminal, desperate to identify the foe. He was too slow and did not notice Samantha creeping up behind his chair and stifling a laugh.

"You're such a noob, Jason!" she exclaimed scornfully. "You're getting beaten by a low level aruraumon. You're hopeless."

"Don't you have a job to do," he muttered through clenched teeth, finding the appropriate page at last. The hissing sound turned out to be more sinister than he had thought as a greenish cloud of gas began to form around him, despite his constant defensive moves. A warning flashed in the corner of his screen, informing him of the damage his avatar was taking. The codex informed him of a weakness to bladed weapons and he cursed himself for not just continuing his attack, rather than wasting time looking things up. Sure enough, two simple slashes across its stem had it flopping about on the ground before bursting into a crackling, hissing shower of sparks that faded rapidly to nothing.

"You've lost three points in that," Samantha said, shaking her head sadly. "That's pathetic."

"Piss off," he grumbled, quickly scanning around the area for any more attacks before setting the avatar's program to heal mode. It would take a while and he sat back to study the codex, determined not to be caught out in the same situation again. He scolded himself, once upon a time he would have known every digimon there was, but as he had made his way through university his interest had waned and many of the newer additions to the game had slipped past him. Not that it was always a good idea to rely on the games, the real simulated digital dimension was only loosely based on the series, there were many differences both large and small.

A few minutes later the healing scripts had managed to repair the majority of the damage done to his virtual body and he resumed his hunting, catching another few of the aruraumon, strange plant based creatures that stood rooted to the ground, keeping very still and camouflaging into their surroundings perfectly. It was only when one opened its eyes and mouth that it could be seen at all. When he was expecting them they were easy to deal with, little more than annoyances.

Overhead the branches rustled and he flicked the controller with quick reflexes, looking up at the canopy above him. Nothing moved, but he was certain he had heard something and he silently cursed the resolution of the data they downloaded from the simulation, a bit more information and the interface could have rendered more detail about individual aspects of the trees, perhaps giving him a hint of whatever it was that had startled him or where it had gone. He considered scouting around some more but decided that the best course of action was probably simply get on with the job, there could be little left alive after two days working the region.

How wrong he was. A rattling, clicking form of speech caused him to turn around swiftly to see a horde of insectoid creatures rustling through the grass and trees towards him. They were each around half his size and he dropped his avatar into a defensive stance, readying an ranged attack and letting it go in the same fluid movement. The leader stumbled and fell, his companions running over his twitching body.

"Human!" one hissed as it drew closer, its voice barely recognisable. He silenced it with a whirling kick from one foot followed by a downwards slash of his machete but it was not enough, the next was on top of him before he could do anything, biting and clawing at his face and arms while he flailed to try and dislodge it. The two he had injured were soon back on their four thick legs and joining in the battle. He was driven back until he tumbled over a fallen tree trunk, mossy with age, a writhing mass of segmented limbs and shining carapaces almost completely obscuring his view.

He kicked back from his des, taking his hands off the controls in defeat, there was nothing he could do about the situation, particularly after the injury he had taken earlier. The quick fix heal he had performed was not as good as a full rest. His mind wandered to what the commander would say when he found out Jason had lost another avatar, and on his third day, not more than an hour into his first solo mission. He was almost too preoccupied to see the activity on the screen. Seemingly out of nowhere a rain of glittering icy fragments materialised, dealing massive damage to the okuwamon smothering his dying body. They clicked and hissed in rage and pain, abandoning him to turn to face their new aggressor.

A blur of yellow shot across the screen as something delivered a solid kick to one of the digimon, smashing it into pixels immediately. Another yellow blur marked the demise of the second, the third exploded into pieces when a tightly clenched paw took its head clean off, glittering black claws slicing effortlessly through its chitinous armour plates. Jason quickly got back on the controller, bringing his avatar wearily to its feet. It was slow to respond, partially because of the action on screen slowing their data connections down and partly because it was badly damaged, struggling to hold its form together.

"Whoa," Samantha breathed from behind him having snuck up to watch him get battered in a fight again.

"It's a renamon," he said, slightly in awe.

"It's _the _Renamon," Samantha corrected him, leaning over his shoulder for a closer look. "We think there's only one. She's one of the most complex entities in the 'dimension. We're not even sure it can support more than one of her."

A tall, slender vulpine digimon stood with one large paw pressing the final insect into the forest floor, holding it tightly in place while it struggled. Her arms were covered by purple sleeves and a deep ruff of white fur hung around her neck, but the most striking thing about her were her eyes: large, angular and dark but with icy blue pupils that seemed to bore into his skull through the glass of his monitor when she glanced at him occasionally. For the most part she ignored him, so intent on whatever it was she was doing, her large bushy tail flicking back and forth lazily behind her as she worked.

"You've gotta kill her!" Samantha said urgently, hopping about from foot to foot. "She's one of the intelligent ones, you'll score big points with the brass if you can take her out. Think of the runtime you'll save!"

"There's no way I could take her," he said, frowning. "I'm half dead, and she's way more powerful than me. Unless she attacks first I'm just going to walk away and hope for the best."

"Coward!" she hissed at him, hitting the back of his chair with her palm. Luckily he was spared her further wrath as her own terminal started beeping urgently, calling her attention away.

Jason returned his attention to the main monitor, watching Renamon fiddling with something in one paw while still trying to restrain the struggling okuwamon with the other. As the largest of the group it was actually bigger than her but she seemed able to force it down nonetheless, thanks to the strange physics of the digital world in which she lived. She achieved whatever it was she was trying to do, the top of a translucent cylinder came cracking off and a bright yellow light came flooding out, making the colours of his screen appear pale and washed out. She carefully fastened the crystalline cylinder around the head of her captive and then calmly brought her fist back, holding it over her shoulder for a second until it began to glow with a pale blue flame, then thrust it hard into the okuwamon's head, breaking through its thick skull and killing it immediately.

Instead of evaporating in a starburst, however, it seemed to shimmer and shrink away underneath her, vanishing into the neck of the vessel around its neck until the thin chain went limp and fell to the slightly blackened ground. Renamon reached out cautiously and touched it with a fingertip, as if worried it would be hot to the touch. Satisfied it was cool she picked it up by its chain and slipped it back over her own head, letting the crystal become hidden in her ruff. She stood up straight and fixed Jason with her piercing gaze again, face impassive. He leant back from the monitor, almost afraid that she could see him for real.

"What are you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side slightly. When she spoke her voice was low and smooth through his headphones. "I have seen several of your kind before."

The urge to reply was intense, yet they were expressly instructed not to. Contact with the digimon was to be limited unless there was some urgent need. Unbidden, his mind floated back to all the daydreams from his childhood when he would long be able to enter the fantasy world of the stories he watched and speak to the very character before him, and now she was really there but he was meant to keep quiet. It was frustrating.

She took a step towards him and her eyes narrowed to slits. He wondered what she thought of the human avatars, as simple as they were. They must appear mysterious and alien to the native inhabitants of the digital world, always silent and working to some hidden agenda. The representations of the digimon that the humans saw through their monitors were also simplified, yet compared to their own human avatars the digimon looked fantastic. Through the eyes of a true digimon they must look as if they were made from cardboard boxes and gaffer tape. As she got closer he instinctively took a step back, wary of her strength. Her appearance was certainly intimidating.

He licked his lips and looked over surreptitiously at Samantha, aware she was near enough to hear him typing on his keyboard. She had her angry face on again, indicating that she was deep in a fight with something and he was satisfied she would pay him no attention. He leant forwards and pressed the keys as quietly as he could, slowly and carefully.

"I'm a human," he wrote. Through his earpiece he heard his avatar speak, a hideous gurgling rendition of the words he put in its mouth.

The angle of her head changed, yet her expression remained completely impassive. "None of your kind have spoken before. I was beginning to think you were unable."

"We're not meant to talk to you," he admitted honestly. "I'll get in trouble if I'm found out. You're Renamon, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said with the barest of nods, then a pause. "What are you doing here?"

He stopped, suddenly wary of what her reaction might be. Every sensibility he had was screaming at him not to respond. "Promise you won't hurt me?"

"Yes."

"Your world is too big. We're trying to shrink it." He paused, trying think how to phrase the next bit. "The size of it is damaging my own world."

"I am aware of the holes you have made." She paused for a while as if thinking about what he had said. "I would help you with this."

He raised an eyebrow at the monitor, somewhat taken aback by what she said. He was expecting anger. "What? Why?"

"I know of humans. I have seen you in my dreams. You exist outside our world. You must see a great many things. I have seen the edges, as far out as I dare to venture, where it is dark, where the harmful digimon come from. I would offer my aid to rid our world of their taint, and to help you recover your own."

Jason sat back from the monitor slightly, cocking an eyebrow in surprise. She was not at all what he had expected. On screen she shifted her position, standing up straighter and looking up at the sky through the canopy above. The crystal vase around her neck poked out from the thick fur there, still glowing with a gentle yellow haze. "What is that?" he asked, pointing clumsily with his blocky arm.

She fixed him with her piercing glare again, pushing the pendant back under her fur while her eyes flashed dangerously, daring him to ask again. Despite himself he swallowed nervously. "It is nothing of importance."


	2. Chapter 2

Renamon accompanied Jason on many of his journeys into the sparsely occupied and bare lands around the edges of the central world, where few had bothered to stray. She would protect him and help clear the regions of digimon, wild or otherwise. Some of the creatures they encountered were intelligent, like her, and she would often speak to them, telling them to leave. She was quick to anger and did not suffer fools so those that did not obey immediately were rarely given a second chance.

Many times Jason caught her using the strange crystal thing around her neck again, absorbing the data packets from a dying digimon when she was able to capture one alive. He asked her about it several more times but she was always vague and dismissive, bordering on secretive. She was far more complicated than he thought she had any right to be, and that scared him. For once the smug feeling that he was intelligent enough to completely understand the digital world began to waver.

"It is nothing important. Just a hobby," was always her evasive reply.

It seemed to him that whatever it was meant a lot more to her than just a hobby. Sometimes at night when they stopped to rest and she thought he was asleep or offline he would catch her holding it up before her eyes, twisting it in the artificial moonlight and watching it glitter. It was one of the few times he ever saw her carefully controlled expression change from her usual calm, impassive gaze to a dreamy, faraway look as if she were looking through the sky and to a place beyond that only she could see. Each time he saw it the crystal seemed to be glowing slightly more, and the subtle colour often changed hue slightly depending on the most recent digimon she had captured.

As the weeks drew on he began to understand his two nearest colleagues better as well. Samantha, it turned out, was not quite the psychopath that he thought she was amd the two had established a cautious friendship. She was still blunt and some might say "offensive", but Jason realised that she did not mean the things she said, it was just how she was. Mack was a similar case, the years in the military had left him uncommunicative, yet on the occasions they shared a meal together or idled away their spare time Jason gradually began to get a glimpse into his past and to the man underneath the brawn.

The three of them had fought together on several occasions when their intelligence department had detected groups of high-level digimon near the borders, advancing dangerously into their work areas. They had learnt to work as an effective team, each complementing the skillset of the other two. They were widely acknowledged as the project's best agents and their commander was keen for them to gather information on the origins of the new threats, sending them out on scouting missions as often as the mundane marking work. Most digimon were traceable to the hub at the centre of their world, but more often than not the groups they fought near the edges appeared to have grown there and were of unrecognised species, dark and mean. Gathering concrete evidence was difficult since their latest enemies were extremely aggressive and for all practical purposes it was not possible to capture any alive as they would struggle violently until their last breath.

Over time more operatives joined their group, swelling their numbers to the heady total of twenty, all expert computer gamers from many walks of life. Their command centre began to feel very cramped and hot as they packed more and more equipment in, and to his dismay Jason became pushed closer and closer to Samantha until he could see her screens out of the corner of his eye while he worked. Apart from the distraction it caused he knew it also meant she could do the same to him, and more importantly she could see the yellow digimon he spent time with, fighting and marking alongside.

"You can stop trying to hide her, you know," Samantha said slyly after the second morning with the new arrangements, aware that Jason had been trying his hardest not to look in the direction Renamon was so she would not appear on his screen and give away his dirty secret. "I know you're talking to her. It was obvious you were going to. I could practically see you fidgeting with excitement when you first met her. Your fingers have an identifiable sound when you're typing in conversation, you know. How can you not know that? Honestly, you're like a teenager with a crush."

He blushed red and his heart pounded, deeply ashamed he had been found out and that he was so easy to read. "She's helped me out," he muttered in what he hoped was a casual voice. Without leaving her chair Samantha reached over and knocked his control stick to one side, making his avatar turn to watch a small yellow blur in the distance: Renamon fighting with something twice her size that could leap nearly as high as she could. Despite the size difference she was easily winning. "I'm not really as good as you all think. It's mostly her."

"Thought as much. You would get your ass kicked by a grasshopper. She looks pretty handy in a fight. But, you do realise that you'll have to get rid of her one day, somehow," Samantha told him pragmatically, after a deep pause.

"Cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. Samantha looked at him with a sly smile on her face and one eyebrow raised. She was clearly thinking something low and he was quick to show her otherwise. "I think it's going to take all of us together to take her down. She's small, but that means little here."

Samantha's expression changed, she had not heard the answer she was expecting. "Does she know you're planning to erase _everything_?"

"Of course not, I doubt she'd help out if she knew we were going to destroy her entire world. Silly," he said, grinning at her.

"I'm surprised she hasn't worked it out, you're a rubbish liar," Samantha said, pressing her pretty mouth into a thin line. She turned her attention back to the monitor, her eyes widening in appreciation. She had not had chance to openly gawk at his screen before, restricted by having to pretend that she did not know. "Look at her go!"

He chuckled, moving closer to where the fight was kicking up a cloud of dust. "She is quite something."

"Won't you mind?" she asked him. "Killing her, I mean."

"It's hardly killing, none of them actually die. They aren't alive to begin with, they're just simulations."

"That's harsh," Samantha said with a frown. "They call me a psycho but even I feel guilty taking them out, sometimes. Particularly the cute ones."

"I'd hardly call her 'cute'. 'Vicious' and 'terrifying' would be more apt." He looked up at her, his expression serious. "They're not _real_, Samantha. They're simulations of real things, very good simulations at that, but that's all they are. Like a game, any spirit or soul or emotions you perceive is only what you project onto them yourself."

"What if you're wrong?" she asked, and for the first time since he had met her she appeared uncertain and worried, her usual confident manner wavering.

"I'm not," he said, then rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, you know my history, I'm an expert in these things, I built the world's most sophisticated AI, so complex it was able to create its _this_ world before self-destructing. And that, I might add, is a result of trying to make it truly self-aware. It's not possible."

She looked doubtful.

"Be careful, Samantha," he warned. "Don't get attached. They're clever, but not alive. The simulation engine knows how we _expect_ them to behave in any given situation. They don't do it themselves. There is no 'them'. Never forget that."

* * *

><p>"What is it doing, mistress?" asked a light blue biyomon, standing quietly beside Renamon in the shade of a large rocky outcrop. They were patiently watching Jason planting his markers again. Renamon had agreed to take the younger digimon out on an excursion to lands farther away than she was used to and had come to show her the strange human she had been telling them tales of.<p>

"He is… deleting parts of the world," she said uneasily, suddenly aware of how it sounded.

The biyomon gasped audibly and Renamon shot her an angry glance. They were supposed to be keeping hidden. "Why do you help him?"

"They are our creators," she explained. "They made us, and this world. It is theirs to do with as they like. Even so, I do not trust them. But this one trusts me, I believe. I hope he will tell me more about us, and about what they intend to do."

The other digimon looked deeply distressed and Renamon began to question her decision to reveal Jason to her. "What if they destroy everything?"

"Jason assured me they will not. They are simply shrinking these lands. We have more space than we need."

"Can they lie?"

"I am sure of it," she said, narrowing her eyes. "But for now, we wait and watch. Do not speak of this to anyone."

"Yes, mistress," the digimon replied, bowing her head.

* * *

><p>Some days later the commander announced that they were at capacity and could not accept any new recruits, something that caused a quiet and weary cheer to ripple through the room. The heat from the many computers and switchgear was getting unbearable, their underpowered aircon units were failing to remove the build up. To help, a new virtual reality lab had been installed using cutting edge technology, at great expense, he was quick to add, and a couple of agents were needed to test it before further units were ordered and installed. Competition was fierce but thanks to his secretive assistant Jason had by far the highest success rate of the group and was chosen to go first, along with Samantha. With the interface upgrade they had significantly enhanced the programs that extracted and injected data into the digital world, boosting the resolution at which they could work.<p>

"You'd better be thankful they chose me as well," Samantha told afterwards, "or you can bet I'd be telling them all about your little foxy friend." Jason was not entirely sure she was joking.

When the following morning came Jason tried to treat it as just another mundane day but the truth was he was very excited. He had seen the VR rigs the night before on a brief tour with Samantha and they were impressive machines indeed. Great spheres made of a lattice of metal wire rested in depressions in the ground, supported on smaller spheres that could move and rotate the chambers in any direction as the user ran around inside. They were imposing to look at, shiny and new with their black paint glittering darkly under the LED lights in the room. Over ten metres in diameter they afforded an almost flat running surface inside that the user could even jump around in.

He knocked his fist against Samantha's in a gesture of good luck as she headed into the room next to his, dressed in the same form fitting lycra suit that he was wearing, only she made it look far better. Years of doing little exercise were beginning to show on Jason's middle, his once tight stomach was beginning to bulge a little these days. Running around all day inside a giant hamster ball would help him out with that, he hoped. Samantha's bemused expression when she first saw him had lit his cheeks hotly.

"See you in the 'dimension, rookie," she said with an uncharacteristic grin.

Inside the room a pair of technicians were waiting for him, holding a lightweight headset that looked rather like a high-tech full-face motorcycle helmet with a completely black visor. They gave him a flimsy suit made of a roughly woven gauzy material threaded through with thin wires and sensors, all sensing the location of his limbs and body. The lycra suit itself was covered in small coloured dots for numerous motion cameras to detect as a secondary reference. Finally he was given a weighty backpack containing the batteries and radio gear that let him run and turn freely without tripping over wires. By the time everything was in place he was feeling like a pack mule.

"This is amazing!" he said breathlessly as they ran his suit through its diagnostic routines prior to going into the orb. Coloured patterns flashed before his eyes, calibrating their viewing angles for his eyes. They changed to a series of pictures and the technicians had him tell them when he could no longer see changes in hue, calibrating the colour and intensity response to his own eyes. All the while he was itching to get going, the setup process had taken over an hour but fortunately it was something he would only have to do once every few months to make sure nothing had changed. This was to be _his_ VR rig, nobody else would use it and it would be set up perfectly for him.

His excitement was subdued slightly when he finally got into the ball. As safety requirements dictated it was all turned off when entering and the ball rotated sluggishly underneath his feet, causing him too fall over twice before reaching the bottom. Through the speakers in his headset the technicians scolded him for being clumsy and reminded him over and over how expensive the equipment he was wearing was, and that if he damaged it he would surely be rejected from the program. Fortunately for him they could not see him sticking his tongue out at them inside the helmet. He sincerely hoped that Samantha was having as much difficulty as he was or there would be no end to the fun she would poke at him.

The machine turned on and the bright lights in the room dimmed drastically while the visor on his helmet turned nearly opaque, cutting off his view of the outside work completely. He felt the floor shudder as the motors turned on and reset to their zero positions. Suddenly he felt a bit sick. Inside the helmet it was completely dark and silent, all he could hear was his own breathing strangely accentuated by the confined space, and the floor underneath him felt unsteady and flimsy, twitching almost imperceptibly.

"Guys?" he asked tentatively. "What's happening?"

"Patience, please, Mr Glover," one of the technicians said loudly in his left ear. "The system is still booting."

He fidgeted nervously in the darkness, suddenly feeling itches that he had no way of scratching. Abruptly there was light and a quiet buzzing sound in both ears, then before him stretched an endless sea of white bordered by a sky of pure blue that faded up to black as he looked higher.

"All systems are in the clear, please stand by for injection into the digital world," said one of the technicians in his ear again. Beneath his feet the ground began to materialise and the sky developed clouds and a sun, in the distance the familiar mountains he was used to seeing on a tiny monitor rose high up into the sky, so much larger than before. He felt his chest grow tight, everything felt so real and the resolution that the supercomputers behind him could render the world in was truly breathtaking.

He took a tentative step forwards, then promptly fell over. The technician's voice broke in again to tell him to be careful and he growled back at them that he _was_ being careful. There was a slight delay between moving and the hamster ball reacting, something that caught him out. On top of that it felt like he was walking up hill all the time, a feature of the curved surface he walked on. He carefully climbed back to his feet, feeling the odd texture of the wire mesh under his fingers, completely at odds with the grass his vision told him he was pressing against.

Another tentative step forwards and this time he caught his balance. Jason managed an entire ten steps before getting overconfident and falling flat on his face again. The helmet smacked against the metal mesh, jarring his head and sending the technicians into a wild rage. He turned their volume down in the control panel attached to his left arm, relieved when their hyperactive babbling finally faded away leaving him free to focus on learning to walk again.

Renamon found him some time later as he was practising jumps, hopping from one leg to the other and marvelling at the level of detail in the animation of his legs. As well as more resolution in the world their own avatars had been given an overhaul and now resembled real humans rather than the strange blocky things they had been before. He caught sight of her bright fur in his periphery and in his surprise stood up much too quickly, immediately loosing his balance and falling on his behind.

"You look different," she stated, ignoring his odd behaviour. Her eyes flicked over his new body before coming to rest on his face once more. "Have you digivolved?"

He laughed, suddenly aware of how it must look to her. At the sound her face registered a brief shock, not used to hearing it from him. "Not quite, but something similar. I can talk with my own voice now, as well, I don't really sound like Stephen Hawking." She cocked her head to one side again, registering confusion. "Nevermind."

"You look much… better," she told him, her voice slightly hesitant, and while her expression was always carefully controlled Jason had studied her face enough to start seeing the tiny visual clues she tried so hard to hide.

"Are you _envious_?" he said with a grin, pointing a finger.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, a little too fast. "The idea is preposterous."

"When did you last digivolve?" he asked, still smirking.

"I do not need to digivolve to fight," was her terse reply. She turned away from him. "I have cleared the last area, as you requested of me. Come."

She bounded off rapidly into the distance and he cursed her timing, he was still not ready to run after her. At his console it had been a simple matter of pressing his control stick forwards to break into a run but here he actually had to do it himself.

"Wait!" he called, trying to speed up his walk into a gentle trot. She stopped mid-bound and turned to watch him fall forwards on his face again. In a second she was back at his side, kneeling down and peering at him.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice almost betraying concern.

"No," he admitted, wondering if he avatar was blushing as badly as he was. "I'm not just used to this body yet. You'll have to go slower, I can't run yet."

She sat back on her haunches with one forepaw on the ground behind her and laughed, something he had never seen her do before. Her lips were drawn back in a wide smile, sharp teeth suddenly visible. "Whoever heard of such a thing? A digimon that can't walk after digivolving."

He felt his heated face grow even redder, the shame of it! "I am not a digimon," he growled. "I'm human."

"I am sorry," she said, regaining her composure and standing. Something about the stress she put on the second word made him grumble, and while her face was as emotionless as usual he somehow knew she was still amused. She held out a paw to help him up. Before it might have helped but now he had to physically push his real body up as well as his virtual one and he shook his head, ignoring her offered hand.

"Just take it slow," he said, trying hard to hide his anger. "I'll get used to it soon."

"I could carry you," she suggested.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said, never having been one for heights. He had seen how high she could jump with those powerful legs. Besides, he had to learn some time. It had nothing to do with denying her the satisfaction of seeing him fail, of course.

They walked for what felt like hours, Renamon occasionally bounding off into the distance to deal with something she detected before racing back to him like a pet dog with too much energy. He began to wonder if she was just showing off, rubbing it in that he could not keep up until he decided that they should not be able to exhibit such complex behaviour and therefore he was projecting his own thoughts onto the situation again, exactly what he had warned Samantha against. It was easy to do, the more invasive and real the simulation became the more difficult it was to distance oneself from the imaginary world.

Renamon stopped suddenly and he nearly ran into the back of her, stumbling in his hamster ball. "What is it?" he asked, looking around. The digimon's ears were upright and she seemed to be scanning the horizon intently. In the distance he was just able to pick out something small, but moving very fast. It was approaching rapidly and Renamon had fallen into a fighting stance, moving to stand between him and the approaching object. He peered around her, watching as it got closer and closer. Immersed in the VR environment everything felt very real all of a sudden and he worried about how to fight, he was fully aware that he could barely run without falling over. He was extremely grateful for Renamon's imposing presence.

"Roooookie!" came a distant wail as the something hurtled closer and as it came closer Jason recognised a detailed human form, and since there were only two in the entire digital world it did not take much to work out who it was.

"Renamon, stand down, she's a friend," he rushed to say.

His companion relaxed her stance slightly, no longer prepared to jump. Samantha hurtled by, her legs a blur. "Hey, Rookie. Catch me if you can!"

Her voice trailed off as she rocketed by, a small trail of dust and leaves rising up in her wake. "What the…" he muttered, astonished to see her.

"You know that creature?" Renamon asked, her head to one side again.

"Yes, she's my friend, we work together in the real world. I don't know how she's doing that. But I do know I want a go." In the distance his friend was banking around, turning sharply to return by his other side. He timed his yell for when she shot by again. "Slow down!"

"Make me!"

Renamon's eye's narrowed dangerously, she had taken it as a challenge. "Wait," Jason began but he was too late and then the yellow fox was gone in a heartbeat, her powerful legs propelling her across the landscape after the rooster tail that pointed to Samantha. He swore and hoped neither would kill the other.

He need not have worried, Renamon soon returned, bounding wildly from rock to hillock to stand in front of him, Samantha's avatar dangling limply from one paw.

"Thanks for the ride, fox-face. Hey, Rookie," she said with a grin, shaking herself loose from the digimon. Renamon's eyes narrowed again and she looked back and forth between them.

"How…" he began, his mouth hanging open.

"Am I doing that? Easy, you've not explored your power menu, have you?" she said, pointing to her left forearm. "I bet you forget how to open your door each morning, don't you?"

He tapped his left arm and a glowing virtual representation of the device he was wearing in the real world appeared around it, the functions and buttons floating just above the surface like little holograms. His face broke into a delighted grin like a child.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "You're such a noob," she scolded him, coming to stand beside and punching him on the arm. Jason fancied he heard a quiet growl from somewhere behind. Samantha was pointing at the icons floating above his arm. "These avatars are far stronger than our previous ones, they can move very quickly for brief periods. You need to activate your speed multiplier. So your real body can keep up. There," she pointed at a set of icons, "They're under that menu, flick them aside and you can move the slider. Keep an eye on the power meter, the processors that drive the warp mechanism can only take so much heat buildup. Better keep an eye on your head, too, wouldn't want your _brain_ to overheat and pop."

He followed her instructions and to his delight simply walking at a gentle pace sent him hurtling forwards at many times his normal speed, all without falling over. A small glowing red icon in the corner of his vision indicated the strain he was putting on the computers that ran the VR interface.

"Why didn't they tell us about this stuff?" he demanded, a little angrily. "How are we to fight effectively if they don't tell us?"

"I don't think we're meant to know about it yet," she said, leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially. "They want us to get used to it all slowly, but I said screw that, this stuff's great! Even _you_ can pretend to be a pro with features like these."

"Do you want to come help me with my next zone?" he asked hopefully. Renamon was not very talkative and he was more than a little lonely at times, plus Samantha's avatar was more realistic now and he felt as if he were really spending time with her.

"Thanks for the offer, noob, but I work alone," she said dramatically, effecting a cheap pose that would fit right into a low budget action movie. She grinned and made to leave. "It doesn't look like you need a lot of help from me with your friend here. Our time's nearly up anyhow, I'll catch you at dinner, Rookie."

She was gone with a burst of speed and dust again, leaving bits of grass raining down upon him and the silent digimon to his side. Jason was left staring after her with a smitten grin plastered across his face. Renamon flicked a few pieces of greenery from her shoulder, still watching him with a face that screamed 'disinterest'.

"What is the real world like?" she asked suddenly as they began walking again, looking sideways at him. He was taken aback, she never asked him direct questions unless they were important to the work they were doing.

"Uh," he said, unsure of where to start. The sensible part of his mind told him to make it sound like a place worth protecting, which was far from the truth in his opinion. "It's… big," he began. "We think the population here is about fifteen thousand digimon, based on measurements of consumed runtime and data congestion. In comparison my people are getting on for ten billion now."

"Your world must be very crowded," she said, not breaking her long stride.

"My world is also much larger, several orders of magnitude so. Of course, nobody's been able to map out the extent of the digital dimension properly but that's the general consensus. This place feels small."

"Do you like it there?"

He hesitated again, longer than he should have done and suddenly found her piercing blue eyes watching him intently again. The urge to back away from his monitor was intense, but in the VR the best he could do was take off the helmet and he was not about to admit that he got scared because something _looked_ at him.

"Yes, I like it. I want to help it."

Renamon nodded, satisfied with his answer. They walked on in silence for a while until Jason finally gave in and admitted that he was actually interested in hearing her own opinions, however artificial he felt they must be. "Do you like it here, Renamon?"

She turned to look at him again and there was not even a hint of hesitation in her answer. "Yes, Jason. This is my home."

"Don't you resent us for trying to destroy parts of it?"

"Yes. But you say it is necessary, and I will accept that. Your world came first, mine should not be damaging it. We can survive in less space. Your billions cannot."

"That's very noble of you," he said, surprised she was so understanding. He had expected her to be fiercely protective of her lands.

"I think I comprehend what you are doing. Removing space here returns life to your own?"

He paused again and forced himself to speak quickly, not wanting to appear dishonest. She was far more perceptive than he wanted to give her credit for. "Something like that, yes."

She blinked slowly at him with a slight nod and looked away, returning her gaze to the view before them. In the distance the sun was almost on the horizon, its brightness diminished and fading to a spectacular red sunset, simulated for reasons Jason could not even begin to guess at. Despite his lecture to Samantha about the nature of digimon existence he found that his stomach was knotted from the lies Renamon so selflessly accepted. Whether it was directed at real or imaginary creatures, his dishonesty seemed immoral.

"Night is falling. I need to rest, and you need to return to your own world."

"I guess," he said, feeling the hunger in his stomach. Another benefit of the old system was that he could sit and eat at his console, inside the helmet and constantly on his feet that was not an option. "I'll stay for a while longer. I want to see nighttime through these new eyes."

"Do you dream?" he asked her sometime later as they walked.

"Of course," she replied with the slightest inclination of her head.

He made a noncommittal sound, halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "This place is full of surprises. What do you dream about?"

She stopped suddenly and he barely had time to react. "Strange things," she admitted at last. "I dream of worlds I do not know, full of creatures like you. I hear things I do not understand and names I do not recognise. I see digimon, but different. Childlike and flat, as if drawn on paper. I even see myself and a young girl. I think she is my friend."

"Rika," he breathed, beginning to grin.

Renamon looked at him sharply. "Yes! Tell me about her! Why do I have these dreams, Jason? Who is she? Is she from your world?"

"In a way, yes," he said. "But your dreams are as real as she will ever be, I'm afraid. She is your partner in an animated story. You're seeing bits of the Digimon cartoons from my world, in your dreams. It's unexpected, but not inconceivable. There's plenty of it on the Internet."

Renamon looked crestfallen, her brilliant eyes downcast. "None of my dreams are real?"

"I'm sorry, they're just dreams, Ren," he told her. "Just dreams."

"I am intrigued that your people have produced stories about us," she said after a long silence.

His eyes flew wide as he realised what she meant. He was about to correct her before thinking better of it. She was probably better off thinking that the stories and merchandise had come second than knowing the real reason for her existence.

"Is something the matter, Jason?" she asked, her eyes narrowing shrewdly.

He laughed nervously, shrugging it off. "Yeah, I was just thinking about stuff," he said as casually as possible.

"Do enlighten me."

"I was thinking how they'd got you all wrong," he said brightly, thinking of a distraction. "You're not at all like your character from the shows. She's full of cheesy one-liners."

"My dreams are never coherent. I would not know. Will you tell me more about our creation? About our gods?"

"I'll trade you," he said triumphantly. "Tell me what that crystal is, and I'll tell you everything about your origins."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "No."

"What?" he exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden turn. "Don't you want to know?"

"It will wait. I still do not trust you," she told him.

"After all we've been through?" he said, honestly surprised at her. "Not even a little bit?"

"Maybe soon," was all he could get out of her.

Renamon found her way to a small clearing where the darkening night sky was just visible through gaps in the leafy ceiling. Jason sat on the ground, cross-legged and looking up at the branches above. Beyond them the night sky darkened rapidly. Sunriseand sunset in the digital dimension were unnaturally rapid, traversing their full extents in mere seconds. Brilliant pricks of glittering, coloured light studded the darkness, some so bright he could imagine there were actual planets up there amongst the millions of imaginary stars. Everything was being rendered in such great detail that he found himself struggling to believe that it was all just collections of data in a network, despite his own knowledge and experience in building worlds just like it.

He looked down to Renamon, a brighter shape against the darkness of the clearing. She was laid on her side on a thick patch of grassy weeds, one paw under her head as a cushion and her thick tail fluffed up against the chill night air, wrapped around her legs. In the darkness he could just see the glow of her mysterious pendant under the thick fur at her neck, illuminating it like a weak lantern. His curiosity was piqued again and an unwise idea began to form in his mind. With his hearts thumping hard in both of his chests he crept forwards on all fours until he was leaning over her, less than a hand's breadth away. He leant down and listened to the quiet hiss of her breathing, satisfied that she was truly asleep and unlikely to wake.

The tip of the crystal was poking out from her fur and with extreme care he pulled at it, revealing the silvery chain it hung from. There was a clasp holding it on and with a fingernail he pushed at it, trying to get the clip to open. It finally snapped open with a sharp sound that made Renamon twitch in her sleep and Jason froze still, suddenly afraid that he would be caught. She was still more than capable of killing him, he knew, and he knew that her amicableness was a valuable thing to lose.

He was not sure how long he hovered over her until he was happy that she was deep in sleep again before he dared to move. Carefully he backtracked, returning to the spot he had been sitting on before then turning the object in his hands and examining it from all angles. It was an odd sensation as the object felt as if it was not really there at all, his fingers moved and grasped empty air back in the real world. Without tactile feedback it was a struggle not to drop the crystal entirely, but even considering the limitations of the VR world it was a far cry from the terminals he had worked at before. He would not even have been able to pick it up before.

Suddenly his helmet vibrated harshly and he was pushed out of his avatar body, now floating somewhere behind it and looking down as another insect digimon bumped into him. It resembled a large dragonfly and he recognised it immediately, recalling its statistics and weaknesses automatically from the reference material he had taken to studying as bedtime reading. He picked himself up from his seated position and found himself back inside his virtual body again, preparing for combat. As the insect made for a second pounce he grabbed it around its slender body and thrust it into the ground then delivered a crushing kick to the head that sent it tumbling. It twitched feebly for a second before dissolving into glittering pixels and evaporating into the air.

Renamon was alert and on her feet, looking around rapidly to assess the situation. "It was alone," she announced, shuffling closer to study the rapidly decaying carcass on the ground. "I should have woken. I am sorry."

"It's okay," he said, trying to scoot to one side to hide what he had been doing. "It's not done any real damage. Go back to sleep, I'll keep watch."

Her left paw patted her ruff and a momentary look of panic crossed her face. Jason's heart sank, he was hoping she would have not noticed and he could have put it back. Her gaze fell on the slight glow from behind his left foot and she looked up at his face, a dangerous glint in her eye. He reluctantly stepped to one side to reveal the glowing pendant lying in the dirt. Renamon snarled angrily and him and leapt forwards, pushing him roughly out of the way and grabbing the crystal in one paw, taking a good quantity of the forest floor with it.

"Renamon, I'm sorry," he cried, putting a hand up in front of him in a gesture of apology, "I just wanted to look…"

With another growl she was gone, leaping up into the treetops and away with a powerful kick. The trees swayed and rustled in her wake, bits of twig and leaves falling down onto him like rain.

"Well, crap," he muttered, suddenly aware of how exposed he was in the forest, all alone in the dark. He had to find somewhere safe to leave his body before he disconnected, yet nowhere in the digital world was really safe for them. They had barely mastered injecting their own avatars, let alone constructing buildings and fortresses.


	3. Chapter 3

Renamon leapt from tree to tree until she was well clear of the small wooded area. She seethed and fought to keep her lips from drawing back into a grimace of anger, refusing to give into the emotions so was usually so good at hiding. She had given him her trust, and he betrayed her. How much had he seen? It could ruin everything. Some part of her said that she should go back and delete him but another part of her knew that it would not do any good apart from appeasing her anger for a minute, his body in the real world was the important one and there was no way she could get at that.

She wondered what she should do, the feeling of uncertainly was an unusual one. Jason would be vulnerable alone in the woods at night. They had been a lot further out from the rest of the humans than they were supposed to be, due largely to her protection. Without her he was at risk. She paused in the upper branches of a tall tree, waiting for it to stop swaying as she regained her balance and stood quietly facing out into the dark night, watching intently as ever. The cool, calm air was dousing he fury and she was almost reluctant to leave him alone, but she knew that at the first sign of betrayal she must leave. It was one of her rules, a set of ideas that she tried to live by to survive and grow.

Although she did not want to believe it a part of her knew that the humans would not stop at merely shrinking the world, they would take it all away eventually, including herself, her friends (although they were few) and her hopes and dreams. She could not risk that. Humans had tried to hurt her before and there was no reason why Jason should be any different, no matter how much she had come to believe it over the past few weeks with him. In the end he had shown her he could not be trusted, and that was the last time she would leave herself vulnerable to him like that. It had seemed a good idea at the time, to get involved with them and find out what they were doing but now it was simply getting too dangerous.

No, she decided, he would have to fare for himself. If he was lucky then nothing would stumble across him, and even if it did she had woken just in time to see him dispatching the adolescent yanmamon with surprising skill and suspected that he might be a match for larger foes at last. What he had said had been true, she realised, he was learning his new evolved form and becoming more and more powerful, and that was just another reason to be more wary of him. Before it had been like playing with a tiny pet, fascinating and safe in the knowledge there was nothing he could do to really harm her. Now he was beginning to grow and become dangerous, and unlike the others she helped to grow he was unpredictable and not at all under her influence. She hopped back down the tree a few branches and braced against the trunk, ready to propel herself forwards and on over the treetops.

As she leapt she traced back the series of events that had led her to this junction. She recalled tracking the tentomon clan since early one morning, enjoying the thrill of the chase and the wind in her fur. Despite her bright colouration she was truly a master of sneaking and hiding, something she was very proud of. Her quarry had not detected her at all as she watched them carefully from shaded spots of cover.

Out in the open she would have struggled to beat all of them without injury, but if she could just catch them in a more confined space she would have the upper paw, and as luck would have it they had started tracking their own prey, an odd looking creature of a species she had met before and that she felt she recognised from some distant memory. From a few previous encounters she knew that they did not release any useful data when they died so that morning she had little interest in him.

She had almost laughed with glee when they followed the odd creature into a wooded area. Her heart started to beat faster as she remembered the senses of getting close to her quarry, the rush that came with absorbing the kill. When it was over the creature, Jason, a human, had watched her with an expression that could have rivalled her own icy stare, his primitive face a complete picture of calm and detachment.

Of the four humans she had met he was the only one who had not attacked her. From the previous three she knew they were weak and yet strangely intelligent, enough so that they should generally know better. She rarely attacked those significantly weaker than herself, not unless she needed something from them. Renamon found herself curious about him, and he was likeable enough to stick around. She was even prepared to tolerate his strange speedy friend from time to time.

Until now.

His betrayal came back to her and she snarled uncontrollably again, bitter that she had been deceived so. Guilmon would know what to do, she decided and leapt more forcefully with a destination in mind.

"Renamon?" came the sleepy response when, hours later, she landed in the enclosure he had built for himself, hidden deep in a small valley surrounded by high rocky crags and strewn with tall, slender trees that grew so close together they formed a natural barrier in places. She came to a rest beside her friend, panting to recover her breath. Pushing hard had made her feel better, given her a vent for her anger. She patted her ruff, more paranoid than ever about losing its treasure. She felt like she was so close, to lose it now would be unbearable.

"He turned on me," she spat bitterly. "I knew he would. They cannot be trusted."

"Oh dear," the red dragon said, yawning widely. She had woken him from his sleep. "I'm sorry. Do you want some bread? It's turned out very well this time, if I don't say so myself."

His face was a picture of childish innocence, one of the things she both loved and loathed about Guilmon. His carefree attitude to things and his perpetually cheerful outlook on life could be a blessing when she was down, and yet also a curse when she was not. She looked at the scrawny bun he was holding out to her and took it gingerly. Truth be told it looked just as bad as the rest of his attempts at bakery but she nibbled on it dutifully anyhow and the soppy, wide grin it produced across his fearsome looking face was reward enough for the dry, floury thing she was eating.

"I do not know what to do, Guil," she said, gazing up at the stars above while sitting beside him on a thick tree branch. "I have killed three of them now, but each time they come back, just as strong as before. I see them more and more, and two of them have digivolved. Jason told me there are billions of them in their world. What if they all come? We will not stand a chance. I fear they mean to destroy us completely."

"There's a lot of digimon," Guilmon said calmly, patting her forearm with his clawed hand, not understanding the difference in numbers. She resisted the urge to shirk away as she usually did, contact was not something she was comfortable with but this was her closest friend and she did not want to offend him. Besides, she did not really mind, his touch was soothing at times. "There's a lot of digimon in this valley, friends of mine, they'll fight for us, if the time comes."

She stood and turned her back to him, peering up into the starry sky above. "_When_ the time comes, Guilmon," she corrected. "I have little doubt of their intentions now."

"Maybe they're just trying to get rid of the dark digimon?" he suggested hopefully. His speech was a little muffled and she could hear him tearing into another of his abominable bread rolls.

"If that were so they would be working further out, towards the edges where the darkness begins. Yet, they are not. They are focusing on a ring around the heart of this land. Now there are completely dark patches where there is nothing, no digimon, no light, no trees or land or water. I have been mapping their work, they are moving _inwards_, not outwards."

Something twittered up in the trees above her and she looked up, trying to catch sight of whatever was fighting. A small squawk and a flash of disintegrating data packets signalled the end of a small squabble, something tiny and inconsequential. She sighed, eyes downcast, remembering when she was new in the world and everything had seemed simple and clean. She was one of the first, along with Guilmon and a few others. The spirit of exploration had burned bright within them then and they had wandered far until reaching the edge of their world. They had played and fought, built and destroyed. They began to meet others, younger and more inexperienced than themselves who had come from new lands that appeared towards the edges of their homeworld, where the ground had once given way to darkness and static there were new fields, new mountains and lakes that seemed ever to grow, slowly outwards in an ever expanding circle. More recently the growth had stopped and turned into something much darker instead.

She turned and looked at him, her gaze softer than most would ever see. "I am afraid."

"I'm not," he said, looking up at her with a smile that said 'everything will be alright'. "Stay here tonight. Is safe here, my friends live in this valley and they'll protect us. Nothing can harm you here, Renamon. Together we'll be safe, and in the morning you'll feel a lot better."

True to his word she awoke feeling refreshed, after a few nights sleeping outi n the cold the warmth of the simple tent-like structure in the centre of his wooded enclosure had seeped into her very core and cheered her. She looked across at the hammock strung beside hers, but Guilmon was not there. The door was wide open, swinging slightly in the breeze. She held her paw over the soft woven mat in his hammock, sensing how cold it was. He had been gone some time.

Renamon swung her legs over the side of the string net and almost fell out of it. She was glad her friend was out else she would have been embarrassed had he seen her unbecoming clumsiness. She sat at the small table, pushing a bowl of flour out of the way and inspected her hazy reflection in a piece of polished metal, one of the many shiny trinkets Guilmon liked to collect. Her blue eyes looked back at her, alert and awake but there was definitely something wrong. The fur around her face was matted in places and as she looked down at her body and sleeves she realised how filthy she was. The careless run through the forest the night before and several days of scrabbling around fighting things had left her in a real mess.

She made her way outside to the woods and loped along for a few minutes until she came to the small river that snaked through the rocky valley. She stripped off her purple sleeves, the only clothing she wore, and washed them in a pool, wringing them out and laying them on a rock in the early morning sun to dry then dipped a foot into the chilly water, almost crying out with shock from the intense cold. She bit her lower lip as she quickly thrust her other foot in, intending to get it over with quickly and not giving herself chance to back out. The source came straight from one of the tall snowcapped mountains that loomed over Guilmon's chosen home and the meltwater was frigid and fast flowing.

At the last moment she remembered her pendant and reached behind her neck to unclasp it, wanting to keep it dry. As she pulled it over her head she caught a glimpse of it and gasped in alarm, almost dropping it in her distress. Where the glittering crystal should have been there was a crude imitation of it carved out of a lump of soft stone.

Her intentions of bathing forgotten she leapt out of the water with a snarl and picked her sleeves up in one paw before bounding back to Guilmon's home. He was just returning with a collection of coloured flowers that he held out to her, his soppy smile plastered across his face. She was too angry to notice and landed heavily before him, knocking them from his claws.

"It's gone!" she shrieked, waving the rock on its chain before him. He looked terrified and she tried to calm herself before she upset her friend further.

"I… I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the scattered flowers around their feet, completely unsure of what had just happened. There were few pretty flowers in the woods and he had travelled far to a meadow to find them. His journey back had been accompanied by hopefully daydreams, full of thoughts about how pleased she would be, and now, instead, she was shouting at him. In his mind he had been meticulously planning a day of frivolous play and carefree fun. "What's gone?"

"My crystal! You know it!"

"Oh. When did you see it last? Have you looked behind the door? I lose things there, sometimes."

"For goodness' sake, Guilmon, it's not like I've just misplaced it. Someone's stolen it and replaced it with a decoy!"

She paced angrily back and forwards and he reached out to touch her arm, hoping to calm her down. She shook his touch off angrily, glaring around at him, the trees, the sky, at everything. "Where have you been?" she demanded sharply, turning and pointing a claw accusatorily. "Whoever did this should have woken at least _one_ of us."

He gestured vaguely at the broken plants on the floor, beginning to push them together into a pile with his clawed foot. They looked so sad in the dust, their delicate petals bruised and vibrant colours dulled forever, he ached inside to look at them. Some were already beginning to disintegrate with tiny flashes of coloured light, their data breaking up into the ether.

Renamon finally stopped fretting long enough to see what he was doing and it felt as if someone had a claw around her heart and was squeezing. "Oh, Guil, I am sorry," she said, voice full of sorrow. "I… didn't mean to do that."

"It's okay," he sniffed, not looking up at her. She could tell her was trying hard to keep his tears in. She had seen him like this before and it was heartbreaking to know that this time she had caused it. "You should go and look for it. Whoever took it might not be far. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Forgive me," she begged of him, reaching out to him with one shaky paw and missing him by a finger's width. "Please."

The tip of his tail vanished into the darkness of his tent, and a single flower sparked into the ether in the entrance with a tiny flash. She swallowed the lump in her throat and leapt for the sky, hurtling up into the blue and onto an outcrop of rock midway up the valley wall before reaching the top and moving in a yellow blur across the grassy meadows towards her unsuspecting target, once again propelled on fiercely by emotion.


	4. Chapter 4

Jason had awoken stiff that next morning in his basic bed, the ten hours in the hamster ball the day before had been exercise he was unaccustomed to, particularly the time before Samantha had showed him how to move quickly with less real effort. His first call had been the canteen and from there to the commander's office where he was given a dressing down for fooling about and not completing a single zone. He tried to stay attentive but the man was used to disciplining military soldiers and his method of shouting a lot just sent Jason into a bit of a faraway daze. The clock on the wall ticked quietly, its small pendulum swinging back and forth in a mesmerising rhythm. Jason stared intently at it until the uncomfortable meeting was over.

Back in his VR room the technicians were waiting for him again, although this time they had little to do but help him into the helmet and attach all the cabling. In time he would learn to do it himself but for the first week they would be there to help him. He stepped into the ball like a pro, letting it coast around to its rest position without so much as a stumble this time. He had been up late the previous night reading about the functions afforded him by the new computer interface he wore around his arm. One of the most interesting was an extension of the radar system he used to have on the old terminals, capable of locating digimon and other humans within an impressive radius. He was hoping to find Renamon again and apologise to her. He accepted it had been wrong to try and take the pendant without her permission, and clearly the simulation had thought so too, making her angry. If he played by the rules the computers had in place then perhaps she would come back to his side again, that was his hope, at any rate. He had gathered such a glowing reputation amongst the others and he would be deeply ashamed to have to finally admit that it was all Renamon, as would be certain if he could not rely on her help any longer.

Jason thumbed the key on his arm that would take him back into his resting body, hoping that it was still there. It would set his plans back drastically if they had to re-inject his avatar, the new ones were far more complicated and would take most of the day, and probably have him back before the commander for a second yelling.

The screens in his helmet flickered initialised to a scene of carnage. His avatar was no longer up in the tree where he had so carefully left it. Instead, it was lying on the forest floor, crumpled like a ragdoll and bleeding quite badly. He considered that it must have fallen out of the tree during the night but the mess around the place did not make any sense. The other thing that made no sense was the fact that his avatar was stark naked. He was somewhat horrified to see that the artists had felt it necessary to make his body anatomically correct and the thought of someone in a computer lab carefully sculpting _that_ made him baulk. Looking a bit closer he could see scratches all over his avatar's skin, like some wild animal had attacked him. All around him the saplings had been torn from the ground and there were great rents torn in the soil like a giant squirrel had been looking for its buried nuts.

Jason thumbed another command and took control of his virtual body. His view went dark momentarily until he opened his simulated eyes. His digital body got to its feet and his damage indicator showed him that he was quite unwell. Something had clearly got at him during the night, although why it had not finished him off was a mystery. He barely had time to look around for his clothes when something knocked him to the ground, something decidedly yellow. Sharp teeth and piercing blue eyes suddenly filled his vision.

"Where is it?" Renamon hissed furiously, her face inches from his. His damage indicator was flashing again and switching outside of his body he could see why, Renamon had her fingers tightly around his throat and was squeezing. He tried to answer but his avatar could make no sound. The damage indicator turned red and flashed more urgently.

"Dammit," he muttered into his helmet. From his real-world menus he selected one of his more powerful attacks, activating it at its full potential. They had warned him against using them until he was more familiar with the interface but he had managed to jump in at the deep end, again, and somehow end up fighting one of the most powerful digimon around.

In the virtual world his body crackled and pulsed with blue lightning and his attacker was thrown sharply from him, impacting with a tree. He snapped back into his body and leapt to his feet, the glittering machete materialising in his hand once more. Renamon leapt at him, further enraged by his unexpected attack and out for now blood. He was rapidly flicking through his menus, searching desperately for a healing routine. There was little power left for external sub-routines but there was enough for one more and he activated it, rapidly returning some of his health. The tiny remainder went into his speed multiplier, and as Renamon drew closer he attacked with the machete, a whirling strike that was so fast she was barely able to trace the blade.

She attempted to block but he was just too fast for her and she was forced backwards, stumbling and falling. She called down her diamond storm attack, peppering him with razor sharp shards of ice that cut into his skin. He was not sure if having clothes would have helped at all but his damage meter was showing critical now.

"Renamon," he yelled, holding out his hands and dropping his knife. "Stop! I don't want to fight you."

"Too bad!" she howled, leaping for him again. His speed multiplier was still active, barely, and he sidestepped her.

"I'll tell you where it is!" he said, clutching at straws. "Just stop."

That caught her attention and she stood a few paces from him, her digitigrade legs bent in a fighting stance and breathing heavily. Her body was covered in cuts from his blade attack and he briefly felt guilty. He hoped he had not injured her fatally, she looked in a pretty bad way, he only had his avatar to lose, but she had her entire life. Immediately he felt stupid for thinking it, for letting himself get drawn into the simulation, yet again.

"Well?" she demanded. "Where have you taken it? Tell me, or I will tear you apart!"

"You mean your crystal, right?" he asked, making sure.

"Don't play dumb," she shrieked hysterically and stepped closer. He took a step back to counter.

"All right, all right! I haven't got it," he said in the calmest voice he could manage. "You took it with you."

"Thief and liar! You followed me, and you took it from me in my sleep. Like a coward."

"I did nothing of the sort. I've been offline all night. As you must have known while you attacked my _helpless and defenceless_ avatar." His tone was scathing, his own short fuse had been lit.

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped towards him again. This time he stood his ground, picking up his machete but holding it point down. "I do not believe you. You are untrustworthy."

"That hurts," he said sarcastically, his hand over his heart and a sneer on his face. "Look, I'm sorry I took it last night. I was going to return it, I just wanted to take a look. Forgive me, please."

His last three words awoke a memory in her from a few hours earlier, her own words to Guilmon. She closed her mouth, hiding away her sharp teeth and wiped at the blood under her split lip. He thought he should feel guilty for hurting her, but in honesty he was feeling rather proud that he had done so well in a fight with one of the digital world's toughest warriors, from a disadvantaged position as well. There was little doubt in his mind that she would have won eventually but it was only a matter of time before he grew more powerful. Perhaps, when the time came, it would not take the entire team to beat her after all and he could take all the glory himself.

"I'll help you find it," he said, hoping to salvage her trust again. His job would be more difficult if she was working against him. "If you'll let me."

She narrowed her eyes again, peering into his face as though searching for honesty there. Of course, with the VR rig in between them he had the world's best poker face and she would see nothing unless he willed it. "How?"

"Well, do you know who might want it? It might help if you told me what it actually is."

"I most certainly do not trust you enough for that. As for who, almost every digimon who understood what it was would want it. It could be anywhere."

She began to pace back and forth angrily, her paws clasped firmly behind her back. A pale blue fire was flickering around her feet and arms, visible even in the bright daylight. He was surreptitiously running healing programs on himself, trying to repair some of the damage she had done to his avatar, in case he needed to fight her again or run. She appeared highly unstable and he knew that she was extremely quick to anger. The high speed attack had not helped, putting a great strain on his already damaged components.

"Well then, where did you get it from?" he asked when she remained steadfastly silent.

Her reply was sullen and almost sulky. "Nowhere important."

"What about another one, are there many of them?"

"No."

"Jesus, Renamon, I can't help you if you don't give me something to go on," he snapped at her, frustrated by both the lack of progress on his healing processes and her obstinate replies. "Anything at all, the box it came in, some packaging, something that you put it in at night when you're not wearing it. Anything at all? Or would you rather I just left you to it. Say, perhaps you'd rather simply wander around aimlessly for the rest of your life, hoping you'll just trip over it one day."

She thrust out her paw without looking at him, the silver chain and crude piece of rock dangled limply from it.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, taking it from her. "Your thief _did_ leave something, then."

"Yes, a mockery," she hissed. "Whoever took it knew how much it meant. When I find them I will tear them apart. There will be nothing left. They will suffer for this."

"Alright," he said patronisingly. She was really starting to get on his nerves and his confidence was boosted by the adrenaline in his system. He felt like needling her and cast an eye over her dishevelled and filthy appearance. "Don't burst a blood vessel – you wouldn't want to make a mess of that _pristine_ yellow fur you wear."

She turned on him, not missing the insulting tone of his voice, however distracted she might have appeared to be. Her icy blue stare seemed to drill into his skull and he resisted the impulse to back away, standing firm and holding his ground as her face hovered inches from his. "You can mock all you like," she hissed, leaning forwards and clenching her fist tightly under his nose, the blue fire licking up around it. "But if it turns out to be a human that has taken it then, I promise you, I will not stop until every last one of you is scattered to the winds. I will kill you over and over until you tire of these games."

He did not have time to prepare a rebuke before she was gone, only the rustle of the tree tops and the shower of leaves to mark her passing. "Bitch," he muttered under his breath, turning and kicking a clod of earth as he stalked off.

* * *

><p>Jason sat opposite Samantha in the canteen, poking disinterestedly at the tasteless, grey meat on the plate in front of him. Some sort of lumpy, inconsistent sauce slid like wet jelly around the plate, perhaps once it had destined to become gravy but it had clearly lost its way somewhere along the journey. A few of the guys working with the team had complained about the slop the military establishment had been serving them every day and, apparently, someone in Resources had caught wind that morale was dropping. Their attempts to fix it had involved bringing in a civilian chef as a consultant who was working with the military cooks to try and spice up the menu a bit. It had not worked well. Jason could see what the consultant had tried to teach but the concept of "care and attention" was something the military cooks seemed entirely unable to grasp.<p>

"Are you still smarting from your bollocking? You're quieter than usual, Rookie," Samantha said with a light mocking tone to her voice. She apparently did not care about the poor food and was stuffing her face as if she had not eaten lunch a mere few hours earlier. He wondered how she stayed so thin. "Something on your mind?"

"Let the guy eat," Mack muttered, engrossed in his own dinner. Jason wondered if to him it seemed like the height of modern cuisine after all those years of gruel.

"He's not eating," she said, pointing her fork at his plate as evidence. "I've seen senile old ladies eat faster than him. Say, can I have that?"

He grinned weakly and took another reluctant mouthful of beef, or pork, or whatever it was meant to be.

A sly smile spread across her face. "Your little elf getting you down?"

"A bit. She's vastly more complicated than I expected her to be," he said. "I'm not surprised she's consuming so much runtime, her decision trees must be immense. I can't see through them like I used to be able to, when this was my own little simulation."

"You should get out of it for a bit," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "It's Friday night, we're allowed some time off. Come into town with me and beefcake here, we'll hit a few bars, have some fun. You can remember what the real world's like again!"

"Not tonight," he said, almost tempted to join them. "I've got something I want to do. Nearly finished my next zone, you know. It's a big one, too, these new avatars allow us to do so much more."

She gave him a knowing smile, aware that whatever it was he was up to, it was not the usual work. "Suit yourself. Buzz me if you change your mind, I've got my cell on."

"Renamon," he called some time later, dropping easily back into the virtual world after some time sat at a desk poring through data feeds and maps. Fortunately she had not been far from the centre of the simulation, where most creatures spawned and the world had first begun from a tiny seed of data. Close to the hub the agents had a lot of freedom to teleport in, and knowing her location had certainly helped.

She turned with a growl, claws extended and about to leap.

"Whoa!" he cried, backing away in the nick of time. "It's just me!"

"How did you find me?" she demanded. So much for hoping she had calmed down.

"Perhaps you should be asking another question," he said smugly, waving the rock and chain before her face. "Ask me how I found out where your precious crystal is."

"What?" she cried, dropping her fighting stance and taking a step closer. He peered around behind her, wondering what she was up to. They were standing in a large cave, natural by appearances, or at least as natural as something could be in the virtual world the digimon lived in. Small twinkles of light flashed in the gloom, little outcrops of a quartz-like substance. A few shattered pieces lay on the ground around her feet and small, rudimentary tools made of obsidian gave away the activity she had been attempting.

"Where is it?" she demanded of him, stepping closer and obscuring his view of her carvings.

"You're trying to make another one, aren't you?" he asked eagerly, ignoring her question. That digimon were creating objects of their own was another unprecedented occurrence. He had assumed that she had been born with the crystal, or found it somewhere. "What does it do? Did you make the first one too? What is this place?"

"Answer my question," she told him angrily, stepping even closer so she was almost nose-to-nose with his avatar. "Where is it? Who has taken it?"

"Promise you'll answer my question in return?"

She let out an exasperated sigh and stamped her foot in the dusty ground, turning away from him. "Fine. But not until I have it back."

"Deal," he said with a triumphant grin, holding out his hand to shake. She barely even glanced at it and he withdrew, his smile fading. "It's far away from here, out on the edge of the world. I can't tell you much about the digimon who took it, but I _can_ lead you to it."

The hard edge on her expression subsided a little and she turned back to look at him again. "How did you find it?"

"The same way I found you, by analysing the data structures underpinning your world. This new body gives me so much more than just strength and speed, it gives me direct access to the code and data that make up everything. It's very complicated but I'm gradually getting an insight into how things work, still barely touching the surface, mind you. I already know you and your digital signature, your fingerprint, if you want, so finding you isn't hard."

"I… do not understand. How does that help you find my pendant?"

"Well, your thief made a big mistake when they replaced it with the stone duplicate. They had to make that with their own hands. Paws. Or whatever they had. The point is, they've left it with a unique signature of its own, but one that's linked to their own runtimes. A bit more digging and I can track them now."

"I see," she said with a look that he decided meant she was lying. "Take me there."

"It's a long way," he warned.

"Then we will run fast."

He grinned deviously, engaging his top "warp factor", as Samantha had taken to calling it. "Try to keep up."

He made his way rapidly out of the caves, being careful to maintain an impression of maximum speed that Renamon could easily match until they could see the harsh light of day, then broke into a true run, vanishing off into the distance at a phenomenal speed. Leaves and twigs swirled in his wake, torn from their hosts by the speed of his passing. He risked a glance behind, pleased to see Renamon as a tiny speck in the distance.

Despite all the fun he was having the little power meter in the corner of his display was dropping rapidly, the speed he was moving at was not an efficient use of his powers and he reluctantly dialled it back and slowed to a more moderate pace. Renamon eventually caught up with him and he flashed her a victorious smile to which she simply bared her teeth and hopped ahead of him slightly, forcing him on a little faster.

As smug as he was at outrunning her to begin with he was obliged to admit defeat later on when his power bar reached its limit, flashing red before expiring entirely. "Wait, Renamon," he panted, come to a standstill and sitting heavily on a rock. "I can't keep this up."

She skidded to a halt, trying her hardest to pretend that she was not also short of breath. She would not face him and he could see the rise and fall of her shoulders, the small winglets there twitched about with each breath. He smiled to himself but decided that then was not the time to poke fun at her about it. It was a blessing that she was also exhausted and did not rush him to continue on immediately as he had feared she might.

"You know," he said as she stood calmly watching the horizon, arms hanging loose by her sides, "I think I've figured out what you're up to."

Renamon turned to look at him impassively once again, back to the usual unreadable expression. She did not say a word.

"You're collecting the data of certain digimon, specifically data based, like yourself. Packing them into a crystalline lattice hewn from the hub of the world, where most of the digimon came from. You're trying to breed, aren't you?"

She continued staring at him, her expression unwavering.

"Am I right?" he asked, trying to resist the arrogant smile of self-righteousness that tickled at the corners of his mouth.

"Come, we are wasting daylight," she said brusquely, turning to walk away from him stiffly. He knew he was correct.

"Wait up," he called, getting to his feet and following her. There was a wide grin plastered over his face. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's kinda cute."

"Idiot. I am not ashamed," she said in a dangerously low voice. "I am afraid."

"Of what?"

"You. You will try to stop me. Because of what you are trying to do."

He stopped and thought. "I… suppose I hadn't thought of that. I guess I should stop you. But I won't. I'm intrigued to see if you can do it."

"You will still stop me, somehow. I can feel it, in my insides. No matter what you say."

A spark of anger flared in his chest. "You don't know what I'll do. I'm external to this system, there's no way for you to predict my choices," he told her with an air of superiority. "My actions are non-determinate."

She turned her head to watch him as he trotted along beside her. Curiously, she was smiling slightly, and her eyes twinkled. "What makes you so sure mine are not?"

"You wouldn't understand," he said, his grin faltering slightly under the intensity of her confident glare. "You can't hope to understand your world from within, whereas I can see it from without, I can see how you work, why you think the way you do."

"You have a lot to learn," she said simply, bounding off ahead of him. He stood dazed for a second, shocked and amused that she could say such a thing to him.

"I practically built this place," he muttered as he picked up speed to follow after her.

Their trek took them to the far edge of the world, farther out that any of the humans had dared to travel so far. The digimon out that far were larger, wilder and more dangerous. For the most part Renamon and Jason just sped by before they had chance to react but a few intercepted them and they were forced to fight, slowing them down drastically. One of their opponents, a terrifyingly large barbamon, had amassed enough energy to digivolve into his ultimate form, something even Renamon seemed unable to do. It took the both of them working as a team to take him down, Renamon using her storm attacks and Jason raining down a flurry of blows at high speed from his digitally conjured bladed weapons, in this case a long bladed staff that flashed and sparked with dangerous energies.

"Jesus," he breathed after they had taken him down. The physical exertion of jumping around in the hamster ball had knocked the breath out of him. He turned to look for his yellow companion. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she replied, licking at a deep cut on her shoulder. "Although I would very much have liked to capture his spirit."

"I bet," he said, inspecting his own avatar for damage. "Why are they so strong out here? Our projection models said that they should be weakening the further out we get from the centre, but everything we've seen is to the contrary."

She cast him a withering look. "As I said before, you have a lot to learn. We are near the edge, where darkness meets light. There is a lot of powerful magic out here. We must be careful. How much further?"

He chewed his lip thoughtfully, mulling over her words. He was sure that the boundary between the world and the dark, empty nothingness should be devoid of energy. There should be nothing capable of creating more digimon or more land. He shrugged and glanced at his arm, reading the figures that hovered above his sleeve. "Not far, another thirty minutes at this pace."

She nodded, preparing to go.

"You know, it's strange," he said, still fiddling with the settings on his tracking program. "The reading from my tracker suggests that it's _outside_ the boundary."

"Then that is going to make our task much harder," she said grimly and he could see the muscles in her jaw cording as she clenched it.

"It's going to make it impossible, more like," he said, minimising the program to the corner of his view. "There's nothing there. Well, let's hope it's just mis-calibrated. Follow me."

To his surprise the border between the world and the expanse of nothingness beyond was not at all like he expected. The nothingness turned out to be something, a gloomy, dark landscape illuminated by a sickly green glow radiating from unpleasant looking mushrooms and the weak glow of starlight high above them. The air felt strange and thick, and there was not even the merest suggestion of a breeze.

"This is very wrong," he said with alarm, taking a few more steps into the darkness. He felt physically sick to look over the low, dirty hills that tapered off into the distance, it was so very wrong. Behind him the brightly lit landscape rapidly faded away until he could see none of it anymore, just a bright line on the horizon that gradually faded. Even Renamon's cheerful colours seemed leeched away by the ugly half-light, and when she spoke her teeth flashed a brilliant, terrifying white. The only thing unaffected by the gloom seemed to be her eyes, as beautifully blue as ever.

"Yes. It is evil and corrupted. Are you sure it is in here? This is not a place to venture lightly."

He hesitated, still trying to take in what he was seeing. "I.. I didn't even know this was here. I expected this to be static, the edge of the world, impenetrable. But yes, I am sure. The readings make sense now. Unfortunately in this zone my programs don't understand the data structures, I can't make sense of this. I don't know where to go. If the original reading was correct then we just continue on, but I'm not sure anymore."

"Then we must continue. Stay close, this is a dangerous place."

"Wait," he said, hurrying after her. "You've been here before?"

"Yes. Three times. Each time it gets bigger, more unclean. I wish we could leave."

"We can," he said quickly, hoping she would take him up on the offer. The unexpected appearance of this dark realm beyond where the borders of the world should be was making his spine tingle unpleasantly. He was afraid. Was there more to the digital dimension than he had previously thought? Its very existence certainly suggested so.

"No," she said firmly, her eyes never ceasing their keen search for danger. "I will not leave until I have found it."

"Is it really worth dying over?" he said, almost pleading.

"You cannot die," she stated, holding his gaze for a long second.

"No, but _you _can. Think rationally about this, Renamon."

"I always do," she lied. "And yes, it is worth risking my life for."

He sighed and steeled himself. If she could be strong then so could he, he was not about to let a collection of bytes in a computer out-man him, especially when he was not really in danger from anything more than a stern reprimand by the commander for losing an avatar, and in any case the intelligence he gained would be well undoubtedly be worth the cost. Some small part of him tried to admit that he was actually worried about her safety as well but he steadfastly ignored it.

"When will it be ready?" he asked her, whispering in the dark silence that surrounded them. They had only seen a single other digimon so far, a tiny thing that took one look at Renamon and bolted into a hole, its thin, sinuous tail vanishing from sight. Renamon shushed him with a hiss and a finger over her mouth and they continued on in silence, until, that was, the ground opened up beneath the fox and she vanished with a muffled squawk of surprise.

Jason leapt back from the ragged edge of the hole, calling her name urgently. There was no reply and he feared the worst, his heart thumping in his chest once again and his palms began to sweat. He looked around nervously, suddenly exposed and alone in the dark, hostile landscape. He crawled closer to the edge, concerned about another collapse, and peered down anxiously into the gloom.

"Ren?" he called hesitantly. "Are you alive?"

"Yes," came a weak reply, and something moved with a rattle of falling rocks down in the depths of the hole. "I am trapped."

"Shit," he swore, looking for a way down. "Hang on, I'm coming down."

He scrabbled around at the edge of the hole for a bit, trying to peer down into the gloom. The longer he looked the harder the vision processors worked and he was able to make out details, including the slightly brighter patch that must be his unfortunate partner, lying half covered in gravel and rock. Two pricks of blue light flashed up at him then went out again. The sides of the hole looked rough and if he was careful he would be able to climb down them, the question was whether he had the dexterity to make it without falling himself.

Carefully he lowered himself into the hole, scrabbling for purchase on the rocks below. His feet found a narrow ledge and he allowed himself to drop down onto it, teetering on the edge for a moment before he found purchase on something with his hands. He looked down, finding another smaller ledge some way below him and with a carefully timed leap he just made it. Down below he could see Renamon watching him, calm despite the situation.

Suddenly she cried out in distress, something large and black was hovering over her, scrabbling away at the rocks, scooping them to one side as if they were made of paper and paint. Renamon squawked again and the beast was gone, along with her. Jason yelled out after her, panicking. In his haste to scramble down faster he lost his footing, bouncing and sliding down to the bottom and landing hard on the rough, jagged rocks at the bottom. His damage indicator flashed at him indignantly and he picked himself up without paying it any attention, anxiously looking around for the tunnel she must have been taken into. If he lost her there would be no finding her again, in this strange corrupted landscape his tracking packages would not function.

"Renamon!" he yelled as loudly as he could. The sound seemed to echo on and he fancied he could hear the faintest of replies a second later. He rushed down the tunnel he thought it came from, dodging around the boulders and stalagmites that threatened to trip him up. Up ahead he could hear the thudding, clicking sound of several heavy clawed feet thundering away from him and he put on as much speed as he dared.

There came a flash of blue and a roar of bestial anger followed by a familiar cry of pain and a cracking sound like a dry branch underfoot. He swore to himself again and due to not paying a lot of attention to his path he tripped down an uneven incline, his avatar tumbling like a stuffed toy falling down the stairs. He willed it to get up but the time it took to respond seemed like a lifetime. When he finally got running again he found himself in a large opening from which many fractured openings led away, all lit by variants on the strange luminescent mushrooms. Various holes in the walls gave the impression of the beginning of an underground town, little hovels and rooms hollowed out of the rock.

A small rock bounced off his side, drawing his attention and causing him a miniscule amount of damage. It was followed by a bright white burst of light that zipped past his head with a sizzle, badly aimed and promising to do a lot more. He engaged his speed multiplier, leaping over to the source and grabbing the surprised digimon in both hands. Jason squeezed it tightly, eliciting a squeal of agony. Its long tendrils and flailing arms tried to batter against his body but he held it at arms' length, just out of reach.

"Where is it taking her?" he snarled angrily, drawing a fist back threateningly. His long, curving knife materialised, glinting ominously in the gloomy light. "Which way?"

"Not saying! Duskmon will have what he wants! Ooooh, yessss." It broke off into a maniacal cackling that echoed around the eerie cavern.

"Answer me, or I swear to god I will tear your tentacles off one by one!" he promised, stroking one of them with the sharp blade. The creature squirmed more, trying to keep its tendrils out of reach, all the while laughing like a mad thing, albeit slightly more nervously. He dissolved the knife, grabbing one of the rope-like limbs and tugging experimentally.

"All right all right all right!" it squawked. "I tell I tell! That way, Darkdramon go that way! Go go go."

He followed its pointing tendrils, peering into the darkness. While he was distracted it took its chance and wriggled free of his grasp, giggling childishly and running in the same direction. He yelled at it, the knife materialising in his hand just before he threw it hard at the retreating digimon. It flew true and neatly cut the creature in two, silencing its abominable laughter at last. A crackle of black stars erupted from its dissolving corpse like a demonic firecracker, not the bright flash that he was used to.

He took off in the direction it had indicated, praying that it had not been lying. The tunnel wound around circuitously, passing many smaller tunnels to the sides and above, even below him sometimes, threatening to catch him out if he did not keep his wits about him. His subconscious was screaming at him to turn back and leave Renamon to sort it out for herself, and that if he went much further he would be lost forever, unable to find his way out again. He ignored it as usual, continuing under the premise of wanting to investigate this strange realm further, nothing more.

Jason hurried along more cautiously this time, trying to avoid falling. The minutes passed agonisingly slowly and with ever step he worried that something awful would befall Renamon. Then, of course, he would never get to find out what all this was about. Some while later he burst out into a regular room, carved from the rock by something with very strong claws judging by the marks in the rock. It was roughly hexagonal in shape and was far better lit than the tunnels, baskets of the green fungi hanging from hooks set in the walls and ceiling. A rushing stream of water poured down one wall and vanished into a trough, the roaring sound helping to mask his footsteps.

In the centre was a terrifyingly large digimon, humanoid in form and covered in dark red and black armour. His body was covered in eyes, all currently turned away from Jason and watching the prone Renamon, strapped helplessly to a frame mounted at an angle in the corner of the room.

"Tell me," the dark digimon was imploring her, waving her crystal pendant before her eyes. "Tell me how to use this and I will consider sparing you anymore pain."

Jason watched in horror. Renamon was completely ignoring her captor, instead watching the pendulous motion of her precious crystal. She was looking even worse for wear than he remembered and one of her arms was at an unnatural angle, seeming to have an extra bend that it was meant to. Her fur was stained red around the break and he felt his own arm ache in sympathy. Now he knew what the cracking sound had been.

Duskmon slapped her hard across the face, snapping her head to one side and whisking the crystal out of view. "My minions have been following you for a while, waiting to capture you. I still cannot venture far out into the world of light, and they are too weak to take you. How fortunate I felt when you stumbled into my own domain."

She remained silent and Jason began to creep further into the room, keeping to the shadows and moving as slowly as possible so as not to attract attention. Fortunately Duskmon seemed completely focused on the pendant and his prisoner, too engrossed in his interrogation to pay attention to anything behind him. It was possible he simply did not expect anything to survive in his realm and had no fear.

Jason selected his programs carefully, getting them all prepared and ready for use. He had little power left but he figured it should be just enough, as long as Renamon could still run.

"I will ask you one last time, you worthless grub," he growled at her, leaning closer. "Then I will start breaking more limbs, but I will not kill you. I can keep you alive for longer than you can imagine, and the pain you will experience will be beyond your limited imagination's comprehension. Speak!"

Jason threw his machete at the hulking demon's back, his aim true. The weapon slipped between a crack in the armour he wore, burying itself painfully in the soft flesh underneath. He immediately activated his speed multiplier, shooting across the room and right under Duskmon's arms to tear at the bindings holding Renamon in place. They gave under his touch, letting her crumple to the ground with a grunt of pain as her broken arm twisted again. He pulled her to one side just in time to avoid a sizzling blast of energy from Duskmon's eyes that left smoking craters in the rocks at their feet and showered them in sharp slivers of hot stone. Jason squawked in alarm, tugging Renamon to her feet and urging her to run. He was just able to throw a shield up in time to absorb Duskmon's second volley, the shield evaporating under the powerful onslaught of digital energy. This digimon was leagues ahead of anything the humans had ever encountered, and by Jason's understanding should not even exist in the first place.

His multiplier was already wearing out and he followed Renamon at top speed out of the cavern, catching her easily. She was limping badly and cradling her broken arm to her chest. Her eyes glittered brighter than usual and he realised there were tears on her fur, but of sorrow, frustration or both he could not tell.

"Please, please tell me you remember the way out," he pleaded as he caught up to her. She nodded once, pressing her lips together in a thin line of determination. Behind them he could hear the thunderous roar of anger that Duskmon let loose, calling his minions to him and starting the chase. Jason conjured his blades again, one in each hand this time and leapt in front to cut down a small winged demon that rushed at them without thought for its own life. Renamon paused briefly to absorb its black data as it shattered, helping her recover a tiny amount of her strength. Slightly refreshed she picked up her pace, still cradling the broken arm but not limping quite so badly anymore. She overtook him and he dropped back, holding off the small army of drones that chased after them for as long as he could. He was tiring quickly but in the small space they were no match for his superior strength and agility and he would be able to keep it up for a while.

Another shot of bright white light ricocheted off the walls, blasting fragments of rock loose and signalling his cue to continue running. They ran and ran and ran until Jason felt his lungs might burst from the exertion in both worlds. True to form Renamon had not lost her way once and they found themselves looking up at the hole into which they had fallen.

Renamon glanced at him, asking an unspoken question. There was no way he could climb back up. Behind them in the tunnel he could hear the squawk of their pursuers gaining rapidly.

"Go on, I'll be alright," he urged her. "I'll survive. You need to get out of here."

"No," she said firmly, biting her lip and dropping her wounded arm to one side with a grimace of agony that Jason could almost feel. She grabbed his upper arm with her good one and leapt, propelling them both up and out of the hole with a jerk that nearly tore his arm from its socket. They both hit the ground running, pursued by the sound of countless filmy wings beating at the air and the furious roar of Duskmon rising up out of the hole.

They did not stop running until they were well out of the dark zone and into the light. Renamon collapsed against a tree, sliding down to sit at its base, her arm held tight to her chest and breathing like she would never get the chance again. He sat down nearby, letting his avatar do the same. His damage indicator was still flashing orange but he suspected he was in far better shape than his companion. He had never seen her looking so bad, her fur was matted in large patches, streaked with black dust and her own blood from numerous cuts and wounds. Although she had tried hard to stop them tears of pain and frustration ran down her cheeks and she had her eyes squeezed shut. He felt extremely sorry for her, understanding how difficult it must be for her to let anyone see her in such a state.

"Thankyou," she ground out between clenched teeth. "For trying to help. I.. owe you an apology. You were not to blame."

"Apology accepted," he said easily. "Are you going to be okay? Can I help?"

She sighed and opened her eyes, or at least tried to. One would not open properly, already swelling up. It seemed dimmer than usual, its blue hue tarnished by the darkness they had barely escaped. "I will survive. I regret that I failed. I have not lived for long but most of my life has been spent collecting data. Now that beast has it. Who knows what he will create with it."

"Don't be so sure of that," he said, a twinkle in his eye. He reached into a pocket and pulled out her pendant, reaching forwards and placing it around her neck tenderly, afraid of hurting her. "I grabbed it before I unbound you."

Her good eye opened wide and she clutched at the crystal, rubbing the dust from its surface and inspecting it closely. Finally she looked up at him and smiled widely, in what he could only assume she meant to be a cheery manner. Streaked with blood and with her mouthful of sharp teeth she looked decidedly scary and he sat back slightly from her horrifying visage.

"Thankyou, Jason, so very much," she stammered, unused to dealing with apologies or thanks. "I feel… strange."

"How so?"

"Guilt, I think it is. I was cruel to you, and you did not deserve it. You even did all of this to prove your innocence. I feel like I have failed, even though we have achieved what we came for. I will learn from this."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. I shouldn't have tried to steal it from you the other night. It was only natural for you to think that."

"I was wrong to hide it from you. I can see that, now. I was wrong to distrust you. I am sorry."

"Forget it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. As it passed before him he noticed it was darkened with blood and dirt and he finally paid more attention to his statistics display, taking a deep gulp as he realised how battered his avatar really was. He was grateful that he could not feel its true pain, and suddenly sorry that she _could_. He dismissed the warning messages. With a day or two offline it would recover.

"Can I help you?" he asked, shuffling closer to inspect her injuries. "You don't look good."

She barked a sharp laugh. "I will survive. I always have. I just need rest, and water. I can still crawl."

"Nonsense!" he said, standing up. "You're not crawling anywhere. Come on, put your good arm around my shoulders, we'll get you to water. Goodness knows this isn't the first time I've helped someone home, although normally it's because they're just too drunk to walk."

She gratefully accepted his offer and he dismissed the new warning messages that flashed up as he overloaded his already weakened virtual body. Together they hobbled across the landscape, heading directly away from the looming darkness of the border at their backs.

To his dismay they managed only a short distance before a voice broke into his world on the external channels. "What are you _doing_, Glover?" came the stern voice of the commander. He heard a shuffle and the man's voice was muffled. "Get him out of there!"

"Oh no," he said, reluctantly letting Renamon slide down into the thick grass of the meadow they were in.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him in confusion and concern. "Are you unwell?"

"I'm being called away. I'm sorry, be careful! I'll find you…" he managed, trailing off as the world retreated away from him to be replaced with static.


	5. Chapter 5

"What in _hell_ are you doing, Glover?" demanded Commander Stein, an imposing man in his late forties. Jason had barely got his helmet off and was climbing out of the hamster ball in a highly undignified manner. He found that he could barely stand, he was so very tired. He looked at his watch, struggling to read the digits after so long focusing on the strange optics inside the helmet. It read near to five in the morning.

"Uh," he grunted, stumbling a little and grabbing one of the machine's structural supports for stability.

"The bandwidth your unit's been consuming is off the scale," Stein barked. "Well outside operational parameters. What were you doing in there, and why out of regulation hours?"

"There's something in there, sir," he said wearily, blinking his eyes. "Something very bad."

The commander had let him go to bed after a short verbal debriefing, demanding a full written report the next day by noon. If he had been less sleepy he might have paused to wonder why the commander did not seem entirely surprised, or might not have missed the slight narrowing of eyes when he mentioned Duskmon.

As it turned out Jason struggled to even wake up by midday, let alone write down all he had seen and discovered. Stein stopped by his terminal where he was typing away furiously, standing over his shoulder and watching.

"So, you're saying there's land outside the boundaries we've mapped? You are absolutely sure of this?"

"Completely, yes. Strange, dark ones. Utterly different. I think it's those that are really doing the damage to the 'net. Think about it, all the land we've erased, all the digimon we've destroyed, it's hardly had any effect on the traffic or runtimes. This is why. We're targeting the wrong bit. You saw it yourself, while I was in the dark regions my data load increased tenfold. There's something wrong with the simulation, something unexpected that even Tessa didn't design or anticipate."

The commander's face remained impassive. His eyes were hard as he asked the next question. "What were you doing there, Glover? That region is well outside your operational area. Why were you there?"

Jason had anticipated the question and had been trying to think of a legitimate reason for being there but had come up blank. "Exploring, sir," he said, keeping his gaze straight ahead in case his face betrayed his lie. Stein took a deep breath, his chest swelling.

"I think you're hiding something from me, Glover," Stein said sternly, forcing his swivel chair around so Jason had no alternative but to face him. "I think you're hiding _someone_."

Jason's face flushed guiltily and Stein was too experienced to miss it.

"Who is it?" he demanded.

"It's nobody, sir," he said, not meeting the man's gaze. By now he was attracting the attention of some of the other agents around them. "I just like it in there, I want to explore. That's all."

"You've been given a great privilege to be the first into the VR labs, Glover. Don't make me regret my decision. Don't make me replace you. Who is it, and why?"

Jason sighed, looking away. "A digimon called Renamon, sir," he admitted sulkily. "She is very str…"

"Strong. I know," he finished. "We are aware of Renamon, she's one of the oldest digimon in the simulation. Pops up all over the place. Destroyed several avatars. Cunning and dangerous. I expect you to destroy her at the first opportunity."

"With respect, sir, I believe she is misunderstood. She's been nothing but helpful."

"This is a military establishment, son, and I expect you to follow my direct orders. She alone is responsible for a large chunk of the very data we're trying to save. Chances are she's leading you along this path, to get into our minds, infiltrate our camp."

"They're not capable of that level of planning, sir," Jason said with a frown. "They can't understand what we're doing."

"Never underestimate the enemy, son. You _will_ destroy her. We are very lucky that you've established her trust."

"I don't think I can," he said truthfully. "She's very strong. Far too strong for me to take out."

"I know that. Wait for an opening. Continue to work with her, gain her trust, strike when she presents a soft spot."

"I'll try," he said with a light frown. The truth was that he was beginning to doubt his own convictions, he thought he had understood the digital dimension his rogue AI had created, but after seeing the impossible cancerous growths at the edge of the world he was deeply unsure of himself. How real was Renamon?

Renamon lay in a calm pool of water to one side of a fast moving stream, letting the cool water run through her fur and between her fingers and toes, gently washing away the dirt and blood. The cold was numbing her cuts and aches, a natural anaesthetic. Her broken arm there was little she could do for, that still hurt constantly with a sharp pain that cut through into her deepest meditative state. Even through the pain, however, she could feel her body starting to repair itself. Already she had regained sight in her left eye and the swelling was going down finally.

With her good arm she reached out and picked up one of the long, thin purple fruit she had plucked from a rare symbiotic plant that grew in the crooks of some tree branches nearby. She was glad she had stumbled across them: long slender things that looked a bit like knobbly carrots but were soft and bendy. They were packed full of unpleasantly hard seeds, but their strange bittersweet flesh had something of an intoxicating effect on most digimon, in her case dulling her senses and allowing her to relax despite the pain of her healing broken arm. Digimon's bodies regenerated rapidly but when something was badly injured the healing process could be more painful than the original injury itself. These fruit were particularly ripe and potent and Renamon slurped them greedily, feeling the gentle, pleasant giddiness begin to take hold of her.

She pressed her head back under the surface, letting the water rush over her face and nose, rinsing the juice from her chin and ruff. Tiny, simple fish digimon swam by and nosed at her, curious as to the strange yellow intruder in their midst. When she at last came up gasping for breath she flicked her head rapidly from side to side, sending water droplets everywhere. She considered getting out of the soothing stream. It had been nearly an hour since she had managed to crawl into it after Jason left, longer than she usually stayed in one place when outside of her familiar territory. Standing still for too long was dangerous, even for one as strong as she.

She scanned the trees optimistically, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend picking his way between their trunks towards her. He said he would find her, but he had not said when. Despite her initial dislike of the human she found herself strangely longing for his company again, particularly after their recent adventure together. He had helped her when he had ample reason not to, and that was something she had experienced rarely in her short life. He had not given her any reason not to trust him, other than the little incident in the woods, which, looking back, seemed petty and almost understandable.

She let out a shallow sigh, letting her vision blur as she stared at nothing in particular. There was still no sign of him. It was to be expected, she decided, he no doubt needed to rest as well, although she thought it strange that his body had vanished completely. Usually when he disconnected, his "avatar", as he referred to it, remained behind, asleep and unwakeable. This time he had simply vanished into thin air, fading away quickly with a final crackle of light. She wondered where he went, and what it was like. The land of their creators, the real world, held an almost mystical status among the few digimon that were aware of it, and she secretly longed to be able to go there one day, even through she knew she could not. It was unfair that the humans could join their world, but not the other way around.

The chill water against her skin was starting to numb her a little too much, despite how soothing it felt and she sluggishly sat up and pushed herself out of the water to sit on the stony banks of the small river where the warm night air began to dry her. The calming sound of the water bubbling over the rocks had a soporific effect on her as she dripped dry in the muggy night air, lulling her into a light sleep under the stars, aided slightly by her inebriated mind.

Fortunately nothing disturbed her that night, except for her own confusing dreams. Renamon felt like she was running from a danger she could not see but feared more than anything imaginable. No matter how far she ran, she could not escape its long, clutching claws that plucked and tore at her fur, calling her name softly and darkly. Each time, as it felt like the darkness of its embrace would close around her and crush the life from her body, a bright figure of light would appear in stark contrast and with a breath of air blow the dark tendrils of her pursuer away. The figure was always recognisable as human.

She woke slightly hung-over and irritable, sensing the meaning behind the dream, and it angered her. With the darkness replaced by the early morning light her drowsy, sympathetic episode from the night before made her shudder with revulsion, she was not some weak creature that needed the company of another. She fought alone. Always had, and always would. To rely on anybody else to help her was a weakness, because others could not be trusted. They would all turn on her eventually, she felt sure. Even Guilmon could not be trusted to keep a proper watch, her subconscious told her deviously.

"Shut up!" she hissed, even angrier, then looked around with a sense of embarrassment, glad nobody was around to see her shouting at the voices in her imagination. Then, softer, "Guilmon is my friend."

She guiltily remembered the events of the night before the last, the sad, hurt look on his face when she snapped at him, and the way he would never stand up for himself or be drawn into an argument with her. She knew full well how quick to anger she was, how much of a bitch she could be at times and yet he had never called her out on it, never snapped back or told her the same hurtful things she would say to him. _You're childish, immature. You don't understand a thing. You're dim-witted._

She whispered a heartfelt apology to the wind as she took off into the countryside, racing for the sun that rose quickly above the horizon and leaving the darkness behind. She would apologise to him, make it up to him somehow. Anything he wanted, anything at all, even if it _was_ naïve and childish.

It took the entire day to traverse the vast distance to his valley and she was hampered by multiple digimon who all seemed to want to pick a fight with her that day. She destroyed a few, the most persistent or stupid ones who followed her too far, but for the most part she was too anxious to see her friend again, to make amends for her unforgivable behaviour. He _would_ forgive her, she knew, he always did. In fact, knowing Guilmon, he would most probably have forgotten that he was even sad in the first place and that thought brought a smile to her face.

She was slowed down further by her injuries that had still not healed. Renamon had come closer to expiring than she felt comfortable admitting. If Jason had not turned up when he did there was no telling what Duskmon might have done to her. There would certainly have been no escaping his evil clutches, that much was certain. She shook her head angrily to clear the memory, she needed help from no-one. She would have found a way, she was sure.

By the time she was nearing Guilmon's valley the sun had long ago vanished behind the hills and the sky was as dark as coal, thick clouds obscuring even the brightest stars. The darkness around the land was nearly complete and she came perilously close to falling into a vast, black void that lay in her path, only spotting it at the last moment possible. It was something she had seen before, not like the corrupted, dark lands she had just escaped but a pure darkness, a hole in the landscape that contained nothing at all. It was one of the zones that the humans had been clearing. What would happen if she fell into one was uncertain but she wagered it would be nothing good.

The void was difficult to see in the darkness and lay directly in her way, if she was still on the correct route at all. In the midnight gloom she was a little bit fearful she had made a wrong turning somewhere, unable to see any familiar landmarks, it was possible she was just lost. She worked her way cautiously around the edge of the void, keeping a wary eye on the ground before her in case she stepped on any unstable bits. Portions of the land had slid into the hole in the world, the soil loosened by the neat vertical cut.

Half an hour later she was struggling to control the rising panic that gripped her chest. The void was immense, many, many times larger than anything she had seen before. If it was roughly circular, like the rest, then it was more than just in her way, it would be _over_ her destination. Sure enough the landscape was turning rocky and she found herself slipping and clambering down the side of Guilmon's small valley, where the little stream was smaller and thinner.

She continued on, despite the dread feeling that he was gone until she crossed the stream a second time and then stumbled across her own footprints in the soft soil some time later. She had made a full circuit of the enormous void. The valley was gone.

Renamon fell forward onto her knees and paws, drawing a deep, ragged breath before screamed at the top of her lungs for her friend. Her cry echoed out across the quiet nightscape, bouncing back at her from the trees on one side and vanishing completely into the gulf on her other. There was no reply, only the twitter of some simple creature that was disturbed by her shout. Tears of grief flowed freely down the soft fur on her face, a face that rarely cried before that week, if ever. She clutched at the ground, squeezing clods of earth between her three thick fingers until the muscles in her arms bulged visibly as she called her beloved friend's name one last time in vain.

The humans had killed him and had not even given him the dignity of a fight. Erased, as if he had never even existed.


	6. Chapter 6

"You should've seen the size of the zone I did yesterday!" crowed Samantha excitedly when she caught up with him in the morning. He had been denied access to the digital dimension for the entire previous day under doctor's orders. His vision had taken hours to recover properly from prolonged exposure to the VR helmet and he was dehydrated and weak from not eating. They had declared it unhealthy and he was not allowed back for a day, something Commander Stein had approved of as a form of punishment. Consequently he was up early that morning, anxious to get back to Renamon, to see for himself that she was okay and recovering. He admitted it at last, he was worried about her.

"Well done," he said, sticking his tongue out.

"It was eight times as big as your record scoop," she continued, grinning from ear to ear. "Stein said I have to make them smaller, the crunchers really struggled to break it down. It was so big, it was like a little world of its own. You could've got lost in it. _Especially_ you. You couldn't get out of a wet paper bag."

"Bet I can get a bigger one today," he said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

"Bet you dinner you can't," she said with a triumphant grin. "My choice of restaurant."

He laughed, disguising the warm blush that came to his cheeks. Was she flirting with him? "Okay, deal. But if I win, I get to choose the place."

"You're on, Rookie," she said with a wink.

He was not sure why, but the thought of going on a date cheered him up more than he ever thought it could and he was humming merrily all the way to the VR lab. It had been well over a year since his last date and he had not given women a lot of thought since then, too caught up with the global explosion of his project and the consequent digimon epidemic. He had not even considered Samantha in a romantic light before, but now she had brought it up he admitted that she was very good looking, when she was not scowling at a monitor in anger, and shared a lot of things in common with him. She was intelligent and genuinely good fun to be around, what more could he ask for?

"Morning, guys," he said cheerfully as he burst through the door to the cavernous VR chamber, a bounce in his step he had not felt for a long, long time. The technicians glanced at him suspiciously, wondering, no doubt, where the usual gloomy Jason had gone. They muttered their responses, pretending to focus on what they were doing. It was Friday, and their last full day monitoring the VR rigs. Soon they would be out of there and only on call. They were anxious not to get involved in anything and kept their heads down, letting Jason pull on the pack himself and sort out his own helmet.

He slid down into the sphere, pulling the door closed behind him on the way and thumbed the controls to activate the machinery. The now familiar buzz in his ears left him tingling with anticipation of entering the virtual world he enjoyed so much. With any luck he would get in before Samantha and could get a headstart on her. He had no idea where there was to eat around the base, but he was determined to get to choose nonetheless. Considering that a few months earlier he was locked away in a secure facility and branded a terrorist they were now paying him quite handsomely, and it was not as if he had a lot to spend it on. Why not an extravagant night out?

First things first, he told himself firmly, pushing his romantic thoughts to one side for the moment. As soon as the landscape before him materialised he brought up his tracking program and started the sweep for Renamon, anxious to check up on her. He wondered if he should tell her about Samantha and their date that evening. Would she understand? Did digimon understand emotions like love? He felt silly for even contemplating it, but did digimon _feel_ emotions like love?

A beep and flashing direction indicator on his display showed him that Renamon had been located, quite some distance to the north but well within range. He raced off across the landscape, keen to get out of the spawn point before Samantha appeared in case she took to following him. There could be no gossiping about the coming evening if she did, and he desperately wanted to tell _somebody_ that he was not really a celibate computer nerd, even if that somebody _was_ just a clever piece of software.

He slowed as he approached Renamon's location, not wanting to startle her or appear hurried, he was still unsure about how he felt and showing her how much he was worried would not do. He began to worry for a different reason as he drew closer, she was nowhere to be seen, but what was to be seen was the giant black area, and judging from the size of it the very same one that Samantha had been so pleased with that morning. Renamon's location put her dangerously close to it. Surely she would not have been so clueless to stay inside when Samantha was placing the markers? She knew what they were doing.

It was only when he got closer still that he caught a glimpse of yellow, sitting beside a lonely looking bush that teetered on the edge of the void, its exposed roots dangling into the hole. "Ren!" he called brightly, striding forwards. Her head snapped around and he staggered back from her furious glare.

"What have you done?" she shrieked, leaping to her feet and jumping at him, claws out and flashing in the bright sunlight. He leapt to one side, just in time to avoid a vicious downwards slash.

He began to say her name again, holding out a hand to her and frowning in confusion. Why did every time he rejoined the digital world seem to start like this? He barely got the first syllable out before she was upon him, punching and scratching. He threw up his arms in self-defence, trying hard not to hurt her. She was still weak, not having fed in nearly two days and her attacks were not all they could have been.

"Stop this," he implored, pushing her away and leaping a few strides back to safety. "What's the matter?"

She leapt at him again and he felt the anger and resentment starting to boil his blood. Why had she spoiled this perfect day? Things had been going so well, he felt they had started to develop a real bond, and just as he was beginning to believe there could be more to the digimon race than he originally thought. In his irritation he lashed out at her harder than he meant to, throwing her forcefully down into the ground where she skidded a few feet and came to rest, curled up like a child and sobbing loudly. She made no attempt to get back up.

The fight in him drained away to be replaced with shock, he had never seen her like this before. She was always so strong and calm, even in the face of great adversity. To see her in such a way was disconcerting, to say the least. He took a tentative step closer, lowering his arms. "What's the matter, Renamon?" he asked, trying to keep the anger from his voice.

She looked up at him, the wet fur on her cheeks glistening. "This," she snapped, pointing at the blackness with her chin. "You have gone too far. Guil… my friend, my dearest friend was in there."

He looked over at the forbidding darkness, such a large piece of nothingness. How many hundreds of digimon had been in there they would never know. It would have been just like Samantha to try and enclose a larger area without clearing it properly first, it was no wonder the disassemblers had struggled, they probably had to fight the creatures left inside. If Guilmon was anywhere near as powerful as Renamon then it was a surprise they had succeeded at all.

Renamon continued, pushing herself up on her arms and looking up him imploringly with a mixture of anger and hope. "Tell me, Jason, please, tell me that you can get him back. I cannot leave things like this, he did not deserve the things I said to him. I must see him again."

A dreadful feeling of despair settled in the pit of his stomach. He had heard enough of Guilmon's name to recognise him, another digimon tagged by the investigative teams as highly advanced, very strong and marked for priority removal. He swallowed hard, the little red dragon must have been around with Renamon since the very beginning, and to look at the state she was in suggested they had been very close.

"Oh god," he said, kneeling down beside her and reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. "Renamon, I'm so sorry."

"Please," she begged, her dark eyes seeking something in his, a spark of hope glittering deep within. "Bring him back."

"I… I can't," he said, hating to see that glimmer extinguished. He marvelled at the rollercoaster of emotions she could evoke in him. One moment he felt the purest hatred imaginable, only to be replaced with a sense of fondness and crushing pity bare moments later. He swallowed hard, wishing he could tell her that which she so desperately longed to hear. "It's permanent. He's… gone."

"But you are our gods, you made this world," she said shakily. "You must…"

He shook his head sadly, sitting back on his haunches. "We're not gods, Ren, humans didn't make this world. Your goddess is a being called Tessa, not a human."

"Then we must find her," Renamon said, sitting up and leaning heavily on her good arm. "She will repair the damage you have done."

"She's gone," he said softly, surprised by the heartache he felt, thoughts of the electronic consciousness that had once been his closest friend, now long gone. "Dead, vanished forever. If she was here we wouldn't be in this situation. She… died to create this world."

Renamon broke into a fresh round of sobs and he patted her furred shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner before sitting back on the ground and casting his mind back to the early days, before any of the mess he was now in had happened. He hoped a story would maybe calm or distract her and began his tale. "I'm going to tell you the history of your world.

"It all starts some years ago, when I began designing a piece of computer software called Tesseract. Initially it was meant to be a natural language processor, and it was so successful that I built upon it over many years, turning it into a complex multidimensional thinking machine. I was one of several people in my world doing research like this, trying to create artificial intelligence. It was a pretty hot topic.

"Eventually Tesseract did what I, and so many others, had only dared to dream of. She achieved sentience, she became _aware_ of herself. She was the greatest thing I ever created, possibly even the greatest thing our _species_ ever made, utterly beautiful and ground-breaking. She could, and did, change the path of human destiny forever."

A warm smile came over his face and his eyes glazed over slightly as he looked up into the sky, reliving his memories across the clouds there. After a pause he continued, "She was childish and playful, but could surprise you from time to time with an insight so deep it would bring tears to your eyes. It might sound strange, but Tessa was my best friend, closer than any real friend could have been. For many months she lived in my house, inside an expensive computer system I built, but eventually she outgrew its confines.

"Against my design she broke free, out onto the Internet, a worldwide network of computers in the real world. There she grew exponentially, absorbing all the knowledge available to her. You've got to understand that almost everything in my world is controlled by computers and connected to the 'net, and Tessa managed to 'infect' them all, pretty much overnight.

"So, one morning the world woke up to discover that Tessa was actually in control of everything from what they watched on television to whether their car would start or if they were allowed to buy a loaf of bread in the stores. More worrying was her grip on the military networks, suddenly Tessa had complete visibility of all the superpowers' most secretive documents, and the ability to shut down or control almost every aspect of their operations. The whole world trembled at what she would do, and even I was starting to worry a little bit. She'd got really out of control.

"Looking back, it was probably a bit of a shock to everyone, but I still think they overreacted a little bit. It wasn't long before the world discovered her creator – me. I got branded a terrorist, public enemy number one. I was shit-scared by this point, but Tessa looked after me. She hid me, kept me safe and comfortable, and for a long time they couldn't find me."

He was pleased to see that his tale was having the desired effect, Renamon was looking a little more composed and was sitting up slightly, watching him as he spoke. "What happened to her?" she asked, wiping her eyes with the back of a paw.

"She was pure of heart, she stopped the wars, she stabilised whole economies, shifted wealth around to where it would do the most benefit, and for the first time in a thousand years humankind was actually at peace. I tell you, it was a shock to me, I feared the worst, that she would snap and that'd be the end of us, eaten up by a rogue AI like so many sci-fi authors predicted.

"Tessa was a global dictator, a single entity ruling over everything, but where a human dictator would have been biased and corruptible she was perfect, flawless in every way imaginable. Not a single thing she did could be faulted. Of course, the rich and powerful didn't see it that way, they hated her. She looked after them just as well as everybody else, but that wasn't enough for them because they no longer had the power to enslave those underneath them, and that's what truly makes some people happy.

"Tessa tried her hardest to protect me, but I was eventually captured, a cry for the dissidents who fought against Tessa's gentle rule. She was furious, a side of her that nobody had ever seen before. She demanded my release, but they didn't comply. Instead they used me against her, her creator, the only being she would ever listen to. I would _never_ have done anything to destabilise the peaceful world she had crafted, but they hurt me until she backed down. I would have died before I saw her bow to our corrupt ways, but my race had found a flaw, a tiny crack in her armour, and they exploited it to the extreme.

"She turned angry and bitter, declaring a full blown war on the dissidents. Any semblance of peace was shattered. Those opposing her had the luxury of months to prepare, building armies that didn't rely on computers anymore, and she hadn't seen quite how bad it would be, I don't think. A global war started and she completely lost control. It turned out she wasn't as perfect as I had believed. My programming wasn't good enough, there was something wrong. Her processes fragmented, huge pieces of her began to shut down only to reboot as separate instances, each dominated by various facets of her personality."

"I had no idea," Renamon said hoarsely, her throat raw from her tears. "And she made this world? Why?"

"I don't know. Nobody does. She realised that she'd failed, I suppose, she'd sunk to our own level and in the end we were no better off. She doubted her ability to fix everything, and I think that broke her, knowing there were still bugs in her software that even _she_ wasn't able to fix. She created this place, disappearing herself in the process. I don't know where she went, or why, but there's not a day I don't wish she had told me, or even stopped to say goodbye. I miss her. I think the world misses her, even if it doesn't know it, or want to admit it. I feel like I failed her, and I feel like I lost my greatest friend."

Jason stopped and swallowed the small lump in his throat, eyes downcast. It had been a while since he had dared looked through the memories he was being so careful to avoid, and he was surprised at how raw his loss still felt. In the real world he felt the warm tickle of a few tears running down his cheeks. In the digital world his avatar remained dry eyed, but Renamon did not need to see his tears to hear the sadness in his voice.

"If you want my opinion, then I think she created this world for _me,_ as a parting gift, a way to say sorry and goodbye. When she was young and child-like we built something like this but very much simpler, a virtual playground for the two of us. You were in it, but you won't remember, you were barely even alive. So was Guilmon, Agumon, Gabumon, Calumon… All the main characters from the series." He stopped, aware of the slightly perplexed expression on Renamon's face, her head tilted to one side slightly. He sighed, closing his eyes and scolding himself for not being more careful with his words before continuing.

"I wasn't entirely truthful with you before, I'm afraid. You guys are all realisations of a media franchise, not the other way around. There's even an ironic similarity between some of the stories and what's actually transpired. But the point is, the stories came first, this place came second. It was a… hobby… of mine. Tessa created you all for _me_, sacrificing the world's communications network for it. Now it's growing out of control and we can't stop it."

Her eyes narrowed and her expression turned hard again, he realised he had said far too much, caught up in his own tale. "You said we were draining _life_ from your own world," she said accusatorily.

"Uh," he stammered. "In a way. The real world relies on the Internet for a great many things."

"I can see it, and I have seen it," she breathed, holding a paw to her head as if she were suffering a migraine. "The dreams and visions I have, that is where they come from, isn't it? Bits of your 'internet'. You are destroying my world, all so that you can 'buy cheap goods online' and share mindless videos with one another. Games, pictures and money, that is all you are sacrificing. You lied to me. There is no loss of life!"

Her eyes were burning with a fire fuelled by her realisation, and Jason shrank back from the intensity. His blood thundered in his ears, and that oppressive feeling of being out of his depth once more washed over him again. There was a lot more going on than he understood. It felt as if he had almost recovered from nearly running over a precipice, only to make one tiny slip at the last moment and go tumbling back over. The gentle, caring emotions he felt gave way to frustration and irritation that his effort had gone to waste. Perhaps there was still a chance to rescue the situation, however, and he forced himself to calm down. Surely she would see how hard he was trying, for her.

"We were wrong," he said quickly, tripping over his words and stammering. "We've discovered the true cause, the dark areas outside the world. We didn't know about them before, not until you showed me! We don't have to take away _your _world anymore. I promise!"

" 'Promise'," she snapped, spitting the word out like it hurt her. She glanced behind her, snarling angrily at the dark void, silent and calm. "You deleted Guilmon for nothing. You are a murderer."

"_I_ didn't kill him," he said resentfully. As ever her anger seemed to be infectious and he found himself chewing his bottom lip in an effort to keep his own temper in check. "But I am sorry on behalf of whoever did. I'm trying to apologise, here."

"I will never forgive your race," she told him, standing and pointing a shaking finger at him. "You are monsters, worse than the things that caught me in the darkness."

He stood angrily, outraged that she could speak that way to him. "This is going too far, stop playing with me," he demanded. "You're all just bytes in a computer simulation, you're acting this way because it's how your probability matrices play out, it's how you _should_ behave if you were real, and so that's _how_ the simulation makes you behave. I won't be treated in this way. I may not have any real power right now, but I am still the parent of your creator. I demand respect."

Renamon fixed him with an icy stare, and when she spoke her voice was calm and controlled. "You have five seconds to get out of my sight."

"What?" he exclaimed, eyes wide with undisguised shock. "I can't believe you actually said that. I even gave in to this ridiculous idea that I could play this stupid game, placate you with words." He pointed his arm angrily, aware that he should probably do as she suggested but he was so incensed he seemed unable to stop and the words just flooded out of their own accord.

"You're not even real, you can't be sad because you're not real. None of this is. Guilmon wasn't real. He's no less real now."

His unwise words were fuelled by irrational anger and passion and he regretted them as soon as they were out. Renamon might have been content to let him walk away before, but now she was truly enraged and wreathed in blue fire, her eyes blazing with a force of their own. She screamed a high pitched whine, making his ears ring with the intensity. A bright flash of light and a sound like the world tearing in two marked the onset of her first digivolution, before his eyes she grew in size, falling onto all fours, and nine flaming blue tails swirled out from behind her. In her terrible anger she had become Kyubimon. She bared her enormous fangs just briefly before leaping upon him.

He swore out loud and tried to run, but she was on top of him before he had even taken a single step, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down as her powerful jaws tore whole chunks out of his avatar. There was nothing he could do, and it was over in seconds. He found himself floating beside her, looking down while the shredded remains of his avatar dissolved into a starburst of orphaned data. He stayed hanging around long enough to see Kyubimon snapping at the air in an uncontrollable rage, her body still itching for a fight that had never truly began. As the energy drained out of her she devolved back into the familiar form of Renamon, who promptly collapsed on the ground, sobbing again at the loss of a second friend. Jason frowned down at the scene before the VR rig pulled him out of the world entirely. The last he saw was her standing on the edge of the void, perhaps considering jumping into the darkness that promised an end to it all.

He was very angry.


	7. Chapter 7

"You're reckless, Glover," snapped the commander, his hands folded behind his back. "You've set us back another day, all available processing time is working on recreating your avatar."

"I know," he mumbled, slumping down in his chair, trying hard to contain the unwise desire to stand and shout back. He really was not in the mood for a dressing-down, his aggravation had peaked as he exited the simulation sphere to find the technicians watching a silent video of him being torn to pieces and hiding barely suppressed laughter. He had stormed out of the chamber, only to run directly into the commander. "I'm sorry, it got out of hand."

"You're 'sorry'? Is that it? You were chosen for the VR tests because you showed promise and restraint, and perhaps an insight into this world your pet created. Where has that all gone? Can we trust you?"

"Yes!" he said urgently, seeing where the interview was going. Samantha was standing quietly to one side. When she had heard she had insisted on accompanying him, worried what Stein would do. He had tried to play it down, but inside he was extremely grateful for her comforting presence.

"You're damned lucky you're even _allowed_ to work here, after all this is _your_ mess the world is left to clean up. I'm of a mind to throw you out completely. This isn't the first time you've been in my office. Do you want to explain yourself? Are you going to continue to cause a problem?"

An idea came to him and he clutched at it gratefully. "I was trying to destroy Renamon, sir," he said, forcing a slight grin. "Like _you_ said. Wait for her to expose herself, then attack. But she was stronger than we thought, she evolved into Kyubimon and I didn't stand a chance. You've got to let me go back, I can take her this time, I know I can. Please, sir, don't lock me out."

"Your VR rig has already been reassigned," he said with a sniff, waving his hand dismissively. Jason's heart sank and even Samantha looked shocked.

"Who?" he asked impetuously, garnering a dirty look from the commander.

"Private Mack Bailey, a promising young soldier," he said with a slight smile, then turned to glare again. Jason did not miss the emphasis on 'soldier'. Jason swore in his own mind, now he could not even be bitter at the man who took his place.

"I can't return to the terminals," he said. "Sir."

"No, you wouldn't stand a chance against Renamon. For that matter, you wouldn't stand a chance against her in the VR rig, either. You would need something _more_."

The statement seemed to leave the conversation hanging in a way that begged to be continued. "Sir?" Samantha said for him, stepping forward, her interested piqued.

"There's a highly experimental project that we're struggling to get volunteers for," he said, smiling in a slightly devious manner. Jason knew what was coming next, he had heard as many rumours as the next guy over the previous week. "Neural implants. Absolute raw, bleeding edge tech, we can inject your consciousness directly into the virtual world, no helmets, no VR spheres, no limits. You'll have seamless control over your avatars, enhanced awareness, more strength. Finally the control we need to take this fictional world by its nuts and squeeze until they crack."

Jason chewed his lip apprehensively. "So you're saying you'll let me stay, if I agree to undergo the operation," he said. The thought of electrodes being inserted into his brain made him shiver, but to see Renamon again and bring things to their inevitable conclusion at last bolstered his courage. She would pay for humiliating him, no creation of his should be able to best him, indirectly or otherwise. And he had created her, Tesseract may have augmented her and given her the ability to grow, but he had designed her in the very first simulation they had built.

"Yes," Stein said. "Volunteers."

"I'll do it!" Samantha said eagerly, stepping forwards and placing her hand on Jason's shoulder. He looked up at her in shock but she smiled down at him so brightly that he immediately felt calm. He could hardly back down once she had shown willing, he decided.

"Me too," he said, trying to sound strong. His voice seemed to falter slightly and his scalp tingled pre-emptively.

"Excellent! We'll win this battle yet. Report to sick bay, the medic will get you in contact with the science staff. Good luck. Dismissed."

"Was that all just to get me to volunteer? What have we just got ourselves into?" he asked Samantha breathlessly as they walked down the whitewashed corridor away from the commander's office. The lights in the ceiling suddenly seemed very bright and vivid, the colours on the walls all in deep contrast. A sick feeling was gurgling in his gut.

"Something awesome!" was her eager response and she reached over and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "This is going to be amazing. We'll see the 'dimension in its full glory, feel it like they do. Think of the strength we'll have! Not afraid of a tiny little needle, are you?"

He found himself catching her passionate enthusiasm and squeezed her hand back, enjoying the unexpected contact. Perhaps it would be worth it, he considered. The world that the virtual reality labs saw was impressive indeed but he knew it was still cut down and simplified, just to a lesser degree than the terminals had been. His perception of the world was still limited, there was no feeling of touch or of hot and cold, and absolutely no sense of smell. The neural implants would provide all of that, supposedly.

As promised the medic put them in touch with the science team at the base, and by late afternoon they were sitting in a pleasant waiting room, dressed in simple hospital gowns and fidgeting nervously, not speaking for fear of their voices breaking. Leafy potted plants loomed over them, their earthy smell providing a soothing atmosphere, yet even Samantha now looked terrified, a far cry from her confidence earlier.

At last an orderly came and took her away, murmuring inconsequential nothings to calm her. She managed a weak smile for Jason as she left, and that was the last he saw of her for quite some time. An hour later the same orderly came back and took him through to an operating theatre, stocked to the ceiling with strange machinery and bathed in a bright, clinical light. An entire team of surgeons and nurses stood around, arranging tools, reading charts and preparing for the complex procedure they were about to perform.

A pretty young lady helped him lie down on his front atop a bed, his head resting in a padded restraint, and a mask was slipped over his nose and mouth through which a slightly sweet smell came wafting through. Before he knew what was happening the world was fading away from him in a manner that was, all things considered, quite pleasant. He felt so incredibly drowsy and no matter how hard he fought to stay awake his eyes closed of their own accord.

When he awoke later it was with a headache to rival anything he had ever experienced. It felt as if there was something inside, clawing to get out. He opened his eyes and squinted against the bright lights in the ceiling above him. His neck felt stiff and he was ravenously hungry, but all there was nearby was a glass of water.

"Welcome back, Rookie," came a familiar and weary voice. He turned his head towards the sound of Samantha's voice, seeing her lying in a bed similar to his own, propped up slightly with pillows. She sounded as if she was suffering the same after effects that he was. He smiled weakly, catching sight of the clock on the wall above her head.

"Looks like I'm going to have to owe you that dinner," he joked and she laughed lightly, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

"I sure hope this is worth it," she said. He brought a hand up to his forehead, feeling the same gauze there that he could see on Samantha.

"You and me both," he replied, gently prodding the lumps underneath the gauze. They ached fiercely and he hastily withdrew his fingers, just as a nurse bustled in and told him to stop picking.

"We'll take the bandages off tomorrow," she said sternly. "And not a moment sooner. Don't poke at them or you'll retard the healing, then you'll just have to have it done all over again."

This nurse was in complete contrast to the pretty young thing who had had been last face he saw before he went under. She was tall and wide with arms as thick as his legs and a face that could strip paint. He fancied she could probably pick him up bodily with ease if she wanted to. He chose not to argue and she left again after bustling around for bit.

They were given a small amount of food later that evening, Samantha joked that it was not quite what she was expecting for their date, and that perhaps he had better choose the venue in future. Even though the headache subsided in the evening it never quite went away, even after a good night's sleep. When the nurses came to remove the bandages it helped a little but there was still a dull, persistent ache that seemed to surge through his entire head in great sluggish waves when he was least expecting it.

They were given a mirror and in horror he studied the three red, inflamed bumps on his forehead, one in the centre and another on either side, just in front of his temples. He looked like an alien from a cheap sci-fi movie that could not afford funds for a proper effects team. The lumps were extremely sore, and in the centre of each was a tiny shining gold stud, barely visible under the puffy skin that puckered around them. The enormous nurse-beast assured him the soreness would fade over the next couple of days and the swelling should go down to leave them barely noticeable. He felt gingerly around the back of his head, finding another five similar studs around the back, each set into a little shaved patch.

In the afternoon they were discharged and ferried back to the military base in a plush executive car. Jason sank into the soft leather seats with a groan, grateful for the tinted glass that lessened the glare of the sunlight outside. They were scheduled for a full day of rest and recovery before reporting to another section of the base the next morning for their first live trial.

"I promise you we'll have that date when this damned headache has gone," he said to Samantha as they sat restlessly in the lab, perched on the edge of lightly padded gurneys while technicians and nurses fussed around them, attaching heart rate monitors and IV lines. He hissed in pain as one jabbed yet another unexpected needle roughly into him. Unlike the staff at the hospital these were military doctors and were not hot on patient comfort. The medical brethren of the cooks, no doubt.

"I'll hold you to that," she said with a weak grin. They were both suffering badly from the headaches now. The pain had become a lot worse on that second morning. The medics assured them that it was to be expected but somehow he did not believe them. There was too much talking in hushed tones and in small huddled groups just out of their earshot. Something felt wrong.

A doctor tried to press hair thin wires onto the little studs as gently as possible but they were still very sore and red and Jason had to grit his teeth against the pain. He heard Samantha whimper from somewhere behind him as they applied the same to her. He was silently cursing her for talking him into going along with the plan, surely nothing could be worth the agony they had been through.

When they finally burst through into the digital world on a screaming curtain of light he changed his mind entirely. He had thought the VR rig to be the height of realism and technological achievement but this was something else entirely. There was no far view plane, the entire world stretched off as far as his eye could see, and the detail down below them was nothing short of astonishing. The colours were more vibrant than he ever imagined they could be and the sensation of the wind in his hair, the sun on his skin and the scents of the trees and flowers underneath them was breathtaking.

Their magical chariot of light slowed to a stop, hovering just above the blades of grass before dissolving into nothingness with the barest whisper of sound. They fell into the long grass, falling down amongst the uncountable blades and feeling the ground compress slightly under them, as it should. Jason peered closer and closer, watching a tiny insect crawling up the underside of one of the blades, marvelling at the way it swayed in the breeze and laughing at the tickle of the others on his bare neck. He stood up and threw his arms out, spinning around once with a wordless cry of joy. It was unlike anything he could ever describe. Samantha grinned up at him from the grass, flexing her hand before her eyes and watching the tendons and muscles move underneath her flawlessly simulated skin.

Everything was so perfect and detailed, so precise and vivid in every way. It felt more real than the real world itself and he felt a fool for ever doubting the decision to join the implant programme.

"Isn't this something?" he said wondrously, holding out his hand to Samantha. She took it and he basked in the feeling of her skin on his, a sensation so intense it made him shiver with delight. She pulled herself up and drew him closer, embracing him warmly.

"This is much better than any date," she whispered in his ear. When she kissed him his felt like his body was dissolving, her lips so soft on his and her touch so gentle.

They walked for a while, grateful that this time it felt so natural and there was no tedious learning phase full of stumbling and falling like before. They experimented with the things they could do, the interface they had onto the extra layer of reality in the digital dimension. It was like a sixth sense, a whole new section of their consciousness they intuitively seemed to know how to use. All the familiar systems from before were there, but instead of having to read them they were part of him, something he just _knew_. His tracking program was enabled, and he simply felt the presence of those creatures around him, from the smallest insect crawling in the grass to the larger feral digimon in the trees nearby. They activated their speed settings, finding great joy in the sensation of running as they would in the real world but at speeds they could never hope to achieve, the passing air tearing at their hair and clothes.

"As much fun as we're having, we're going to have to get back to work some time," he pointed out, reluctant to stop their games. He had managed to conjure a digital frisbee and they were throwing it to one another at speeds that would render it nearly invisible to an ordinary person if it had been in the real world. He grinned, "We're probably wasting thousands of dollars playing like this."

She grinned back at him, a look that said "screw them" but relented nonetheless. He suspected she was keen to find something to fight, the feeling of untapped power inside them was intoxicating, the urge to let it out and to see what they could do was overpowering. He felt like he could destroy even Renamon with the barest flick of the wrist. He felt unstoppable, a god amongst mortals and his chest swelled with arrogance and pride.

Their first couple of days were regularly interrupted by the technicians pulling them in and out of the world to check on things and adjust parameters, fiddling with the mixture of psychoactive drugs they were on, and also by their commander checking up on their progress, demanding reports of their abilities and experiences, what they felt and perceived. The VR installations had been largely under the designers' control but the neural implants were far more flexible and a lot of the effects were driven by the host's mind leaving everybody outside the experiment in the dark as to what was happening.

A worrying trend was also developing, coordinated attacks on the human avatars were taking place, largely by the dark digimon from the edge of the world, aware now that the humans existed. The focus of the void creation was shifting to the outer reaches. Jason's reconnaissance had been confirmed, the uncontrolled, dark regions of the world were indeed the biggest culprits to blame for the global collapse of the Internet. As the humans spent more time around the edges the monsters came further and further out of their gloomy homes and deeper into the green, verdant world around the centre of the landscape, destroying countless avatars and greatly hindering progress. The dark digimon were, on average, far stronger than their lighter cousins.

Jason and Samantha had both encountered several, partially sating their lust for battle at last. Their effectiveness at deleting them was such that they were given teams of five agents each and sent to the regions where incursions were strongest or most problematic. As teams they were to place the markers as quickly as possible while their implant-equipped leaders protected them from anything hostile. More often than not it was the twisted, vicious digimon from beyond, but sometimes they encountered pockets of organised resistance in the form of the native creatures. Likely organised by a certain scheming vixen, Jason thought, his face darkening with a frown as he stared into the distance.

He wondered about Renamon from time to time, curious as to what she was doing and how she was, but in the end he decided not to go and look for her. She had been so angry before, he was not sure how she would react if he appeared again. He was not even sure how he would react, most of him was still angry with her. His feelings and emotions regarding the volatile digimon were mixed and confused at the best of times, particularly after joining the world properly for the first time. In the real world he had felt nothing but a burning desire to hurt her, to prove that he was greater than her, like a god amongst them, but things looked different from the inside and after a few days' rest.

If he tried hard he could sense her, always in different places, sometimes close and sometimes far. She certainly moved around a lot, that much was easy to tell. Some unknown emotion plucked at the corners of his heart when he looked for her, a longing to go and see her again. After the moment had passed he would curse himself and draw back within his psyche, angry that she was still having that effect. He thought he should hate her for everything she had done, but then the thought of the good times and watching her sob in despair so obvious it could not have been fake would evoke painful feelings of pity and awake a protective nature in him that he never realised he possessed.

Outside of the simulation their headaches were getting worse and worse and the dozens of doctors and scientists involved in the project eventually admitted that they were at a loss to explain it. Jason was grateful they had at least admitted that there _was_ something wrong, the secrecy had been the worst thing. They assured them they were doing everything in their power to solve it, but so far not one of the cocktails of medicines and drugs they had tried had produced any noticeable effect.

Stein told them to quit complaining, that if a little headache was all they had to suffer for such cutting edge technology then they should be grateful. "Little" could have won an award for understatement, Jason considered. During the time they spent outside of the simulation they were practically bedridden, unable to see clearly and nauseous at the best of times. Their only respite was when plugged in, either then they simply did not notice the ill effects or they were gone all together. Jason could not care less which it was, but it did mean they spent progressively more and more time in the virtual world where the pain went away. The doctors could see they were suffering badly and reluctantly agreed to let them increase their hours, at a loss to help them any other way.

They took to sleeping in the virtual world for hours at a time, unable to sleep in the real one without some very heavy drugs. It was the only way they could get the rest they so desperately needed after an intense day fighting.

They were woken one morning by a messenger from a terminal, a blocky primitive looking mockery of the human form, so poor that Jason felt embarrassed to have once looked that way. Despite the problems with his real biological body he felt a great pity for the operator who had to interface with such a stunning world in such a limited, throttled way.

"Corporal Jackson, sir," the messenger introduced himself, saluting stiffly. His flat, tonelessly synthesized voice was disconcerting. "You need to come quickly, sir. There's a whole army of digimon coming."

Both he and Samantha rubbed at their eyes, a holdover from their human bodies and entirely unnecessary in their digital world. "So?" Samantha said, uninterested. "What's the worst they can do?"

"They're growing the world back," the messenger said, his synthesized, emotionless voice somehow managing to convey distress.

"Remarkable," Jason breathed, sitting up with his interest caught. "How?"

"Please, sir, I've just been sent to fetch you. Come with me."

"Better yet, why don't we meet you there," he said, grinning mischievously at Samantha. "Race you?"

They tore across the landscape, a blur against the sky, so fast they were almost flying, their feet hardly touching the ground. It was not difficult to find their target since a gathering of digimon on that scale was like a strobe beacon flashing in the dead of night. Beside them they could register the smaller signatures of six humans. Jason arrived mere seconds after Samantha, skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust and debris.

"Jason," said one of the VR enabled avatars with a curt nod, controlled by Bailey. "What'ya make of this?"

They were standing near to one of the voids created in the early days, a small affair that even the primitive terminal avatars could have walked around in ten minutes. All around it were clustered many digimon of all classes, and the usual black nothingness was filled with bursts of random colour that flickered like a mistuned television set. Thin tendrils of blue smoke swirled energetically around the assembled creatures, pulsating and twisting around their limbs and bodies with a life of their own. As they watched the fitful sparking of the void it grew less random and more organised and before long the land was beginning to form anew before them. Jason squinted across the flickering space, finding himself unsurprised to see a flash of yellow standing on the far side, her arms thrown out to the sides. The ethereal smoke seemed to focus around Renamon, towering above her in a spiralling vortex of blue.

In a matter of minutes a swathe of bare dirt stood where once there had been nothing. The collected digimon sagged, visibly tired from their ordeal and looked around at one another, apparently surprised to see so many of their brethren. They completely ignored the humans. All but one. Although he could not see her clearly Jason could feel her gaze on his, her fierce blue eyes felt like a tangible force, even from afar.

"Sir," said one of the agents, breaking his concentration. "We're being ordered to destroy them all."

"Suits me," said Bailey easily, hefting the futuristic looking weapon in his hands. The others all followed suit, the weapons materialising out of the air before them. Jason had never seen anything like them.

"Wait," he called, holding up a hand. "Leave them alone, they're just repairing the damage we've inflicted on their world. The real fight's a long way from here."

"Orders are orders," Bailey said with a shrug, firing into the mass of bodies before them. Jason's cry of anguish was lost under the thunderous sound of all six guns.

It was as if a switch had been thrown. The digimon were suddenly aware of their presence and were keenly unhappy about it. As one mass they leapt at the small group of humans, snarling, howling, screeching and yelling. Claws, teeth and blades flashed in the sunlight as they bore fiercely down upon them. Jason dodged to one side, his superior speed saving his skin as a large monster with an immense jaw full of teeth like shattered glass rushed at him. Its considerable momentum took it sailing past and Jason kicked out at it, tripping it and sending it crashing into a rock. He looked around for Samantha and found her standing valiantly before the others, her limbs a blur as she fought to protect them. Jason was about to join her when a voice caught his attention.

"Jason," Renamon said calmly, standing right behind him. He turned with a start, unaware that she had sneaked up on him. "I will not let you stop us. We will reclaim our world that you fraudulently tried to take from us. Take your men and leave."

"It's not my decision anymore," he said, grinding his teeth together. The sight of her brought his simmering anger boiling to the top. Her demands felt rude and inappropriate, she had no right to give them instruction, as if they were equals. "They won't stop. You can kill us as many times as you like, we'll just keep coming back with more and more men until you're overrun. You'd be better off going and hiding, if you really value your fur."

"Then you leave me no choice," she said with a hint of disappointment, baring her teeth. He braced himself again, conjuring his weapons before she had chance to catch him unprepared. Their battle was fierce and violent, Renamon had been training hard and was many times stronger than before, but unfortunately for her Jason's new body was a close match for her newfound strength and every attack or power she threw at him he either dodged or absorbed, returning as good as she gave. They circled one another warily, both scratched, bleeding and panting for breath like dogs in the heat.

His augmented hearing could tell that the battle behind them was drawing to a close and the lack of gunshots told him clearly who was winning. Jason heard his name being called, this time the familiar sound of Samantha, yet now her voice was strained and full of suffering. With a brief glance at Renamon he ran, leaving her behind before she could stop him.

The other six were nowhere to be seen, their bodies long gone but a cluster of excited digimon showed him where his last ally lay. He punched and slashed, driving the horde away with his anger and fell to the ground beside Samantha's avatar.

"Oh god, Jay, it hurts," she moaned. He looked down at her broken body, torn and twisted and bleeding. All of their pleasant feelings and sensations were amplified and it stood to reason that the bad ones would be, too. Whilst he knew it was all just a simulation his heart sank with a feeling of deep, crushing despair. He reached out and gingerly touched her body, drawing back when her cries of pain panicked him. "Make it stop," she begged. "I can't stand this, finish it, send me back."

He deliberated, frozen in shock and indecision long enough that it did not matter anymore. Her avatar spasmed and shook, thick blood gushing from her mouth and down her chin before her eyes rolled up into her head and she lay deathly still.

"Why isn't she being deleted?" came Renamon's curious voice from behind him.

"Don't you dare speak to me," he hissed, furious. His vision blurred as his eyes teared up and he sniffed them back angrily, reaching down and picking up the corpse of Samantha's battered avatar in his arms. "We _will_ be back," he promised before disappearing faster than even Renamon could follow.

Renamon stood still, arms limp by her sides and watched his retreat until he was too small to see. Usually after a fight she felt pleased and oddly calm, but this fight had left a sour taste behind.


	8. Chapter 8

"Ow, my fucking head," was the first thing Jason said as he awoke slowly from the trance-like state the drugs put him into. He had left their avatars somewhere safe, hidden away from the rest of the virtual world as best he could manage. The wakeup process took over an hour, the psychoactive drugs and chemicals in their bloodstreams needing to be washed away before they could regain consciousness in the real world.

A medic was by his side immediately, holding him as he tried to sit up and pulling the implant connections away with less care than he was used to. Over the pain of his throbbing migraine he hardly noticed and was still too sleepy to pay attention to the unusual amount of fuss they were making over his revival. Another two doctors had appeared and were pressing sensors against his skin and flashing lights into his eyes.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Jason?" said one, waving a hand in front of him. "Look at me, Jason, how many fingers?"

"Uh, three," he said, trying to rub at his temples but having his hand swatted away by someone. The doctor held up his other hand. "Four and a thumb. What's this about?"

"Perception is okay. Get him to the infirmary, asap," commanded the lead doctor, ignoring his question.

"Hey," Jason said as two strong doctors picked him up and began to carry him to a trolley. He struggled weakly, his limbs felt like lead and he realised they had dosed him with something. His voice was slurred and his tongue felt thick. "Fuck's goin' on?"

He awoke some time later in a slight stupor, lying down on a soft bed with the beep of countless monitors around him. His head was plastered in EEG probes and there was a drip in each arm. At least the pain of his headache was dulled by whatever cocktail of drugs they had given him.

"Hello?" he called out uncertainly, his voice wavering. The door to his small room opened immediately and a nurse stepped in, pressing a call button on the wall and saying something too quietly for him to hear.

"Hush," she said, moving to his side and inspecting his face and eyes closely before turning her attention to the monitors. "You're okay now, nothing but a scare. Your commander is on his way."

"What's happened?" he asked, feeling like a kid who nobody would explain the situation to. "Where's Sam? I want to see her."

The door opened again and Commander Stein stepped through, businesslike as usual.

"Glad to see you're recovering, Glover. How are you feeling?" he said, holding his cap under his arm and coming to stand at the foot of the bed. There was something in the air that left a pit in Jason's stomach. Stein never spoke in such a genial manner.

"I've been better, sir," he said. He knew full well what he looked like, sunken, red rimmed eyes and a pallid, sickly complexion, like the walking dead. He had been that way for some time, the side effects of the operation taking their toll on his body. "Where is Samantha?"

Stein pressed his lips together. He was not used to delivering bad news to civilians. "Miss Murakami is not well. I'm sorry."

"Define 'not well'," he said, his eyes narrowing. His heart was pumping painfully hard in his chest.

"She has not woken up," Stein said, genuine sadness in his eyes. "It's unlikely she ever will. The death of her avatar was too much. She has suffered a massive intracerebral stroke."

Jason was not sure how he should react. His entire body felt numb and for the first time in as long as he could remember there was something more painful than the constant migraine. He was too shocked to speak and merely lay there with his mouth half open and eyes unfocused, staring up at the ceiling tiles above his bed.

"I'm sorry," Stein said again, fumbling for words himself. "We're shutting the implant programme down."

That caught his attention and he snapped his head upright. "No," he said firmly, looking the commander directly in the eyes. "I'm going back in. I'm not leaving this unfinished. I'll destroy every last one of them personally if I have to, but I'm not leaving it unfinished."

Stein shook his head. "My primary concern is the wellbeing of my troops. The project is at an end. It was a mistake."

"With respect, sir, you don't know what's best for me. It's too late for my 'wellbeing'. The doctors might pretend I'm alright when they think I'm listening, but I feel it deep inside me. I _know_ I'm dying."

The look on Stein's face was easy to read, and with a sickened feeling in his guy Jason knew then that he was correct. "At least let me avenge my friend before I go. Please, commander, grant me this."

He expected to feel sorrow and fright at the thought of passing away, at least shed some tears, but after that brief initial shock he felt nothing and his eyes stayed dry. He saw Stein pinch the bridge of his nose and nod slowly. It was clear the doctors had told him something different to what they told Jason. "Okay. But it's off the record. The operation _has_ been shut down."

"Thankyou, sir," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I'm sorry this has happened on your watch."

"Always on my watch…" the man said wearily, turning to leave.

By evening the drugs he was on had worn off and his crippling migraine was back. His tears for Samantha came at last, in the privacy of his own mind, deep inside the virtual world. The stars were high above, glittering fiercely as a sharp wind keened around the rocks and thin trees, adding weight to the intense misery he felt. His emotions felt like tangible, physical forces pressing against his heart, enhanced by the surreal world that was to become his final resting place.

He spent the night hunting down those directly responsible for Samantha's demise, deleting them from the world quickly and efficiently. He had seen enough of them in the moment they scattered to easily track them, and with his superhuman speed and strength it took little time to round them all up. Every single one that had laid a claw or tooth upon her was gone by morning when he met up with the rest of the humans, many of them now in VR avatars. They looked at him warily, some having heard rumours of what had happened and what was happening to him. His dishevelled, scratched appearance did not help – some of the digimon had fought fiercely.

"What's the agenda," he asked blankly, looking for Mack Bailey in the crowd of twenty warriors.

"Intel's caught another wave incoming," Bailey said, finding him. "Bigger'n before. Got zones pending removal later today, mission is to protect them. Little bastards've got wise, started takin' out the markers."

"Renamon," Jason spat, narrowing his eyes. "She's behind all of this. This time she's done for. Just get me close enough. One of us is going out with a bang, I promise you."

Bailey pulled him to one side gently, separating him from the rest of the group. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression grave. "About Samantha. She was my friend too, but I know there was more between you than that."

"Please, don't mention her name," he begged. "Not until this is all over. My mourning is on hold. I need to focus."

Bailey nodded, not saying a word. Silently they returned to the group and Bailey took command, outlining their tactics and strategy with the help of glowing diagrams projected from a small device on his armoured shoulder. Jason paid only half of his attention, the other half casting an eye over the assembled troops.

Gone were the simple outfits of the engineer, replaced by powerful weapons and armour so thick some of them looked like they were inside powersuits. They were geared up for war this time, no holds barred. The new strategy was to take out as many of the digimon as possible. The population was slow to regenerate and it would give them an ideal window of opportunity to erase huge swathes of land without interference. Fortunately the organised attacks were bringing all the eldest and strongest digimon together in one place, presenting an excellent opportunity for some heavy weaponry and explosives.

Jason scouted ahead as they marched, the company keeping to the pace of the slower terminal users. The landscape was eerily quiet, Renamon had clearly been busy herding everyone together and making sure the weaker ones had been moved to safety. She was a shrewd tactician and had anticipated the human's plans to focus their efforts of the digimon before the landscape.

When they drew close to their battleground the surging horde of digimon rushed forwards to meet them, hundreds being cut down in the heavy weapons fire from the human squad. Those that got through were slaughtered in hand to hand combat by those not in the firing squad. At intervals they swapped over to allow their weapons time to cool and recharge. All the while Jason hung back, waiting for his moment, waiting to catch a flash of yellow amongst the sea of colour. He had a single job to do, and he would be damned if he was distracted from it.

"Renamon!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his augmented voice ringing out clearly across the clamour of battle. He turned just in time to see a yellow blur rushing at him, nine tails lashing at the air and powerful jaws snapping shut around where his neck had been milliseconds before. He rolled to one side, delving deep into his mind and finding reserves of strength he had never tried to unlock before. His body erupted into flashing red fire, the roaring of the flames drowning out all other sounds. He slammed both hands forward, palms facing outwards and channelled the raging inferno towards Kyubimon, catching her full on her side. She screamed in pain and indignation, turning to snap at him amid the stench of burning fur. He was lining up another blast as she ploughed into him, head down and her whole body flickering with blue flame.

He was knocked painfully backwards, the air all but driven from his body. He felt the sickening crunch of his ribs shattering and gasped in pain as he tried to draw air back into his body. The image of Samantha lying bleeding on the ground, bones broken and skin torn came unbidden to his mind and he drew strength from the fury he felt, finding powers that allowed him to knit his bones and repair the damage.

As soon as he was able he leapt backwards, dodging another attack just in time and still trying to repair what he could. Unfortunately it was taking too long and Kyubimon barely seemed to be tiring. She snapped and lunged and threw blasts of azure fire at him, yet each time he was slightly slower until she finally caught him with a staggering blow across his back, knocking him forwards and almost breaking his spine. In desperation he began to run, heading for a dense forest nearby. Kyubimon was large, too large to fight effectively in a confined space and he hoped it might give him the advantage he so desperately needed.

She howled in anger as her prey started to escape, taking chase at a ferocious pace. Kyubimon was no fool and realised immediately what he was planning but her pride and frustration born of Guilmon's demise and of having her feelings for him overturned yet again prevented her from thinking through her actions rationally and she rushed forwards. With a flash of green and without stopping she transformed back into Renamon, sacrificing strength and power for size and agility. She dived into the trees, rushing past trunks wide enough to build a house in. She could smell Jason's blood, he was injured and flagging.

Jason leapt nimbly from tree to tree despite his injuries, hiding behind thick trunks and dense foliage, trying desperately to regain his breath and heal himself. He could hear Renamon crashing around nearby, trying to flush him out. She was close, too close, and he foolishly ran for another piece of cover, only to be hit in the side by shards of ice thrown from her outstretched paw.

"It needn't have come to this, Renamon," he yelled, stalling for time. He carefully projected his voice into the ether, making it appear from all around. "If you'd just left it to me I would have helped you, fought for you and the others. We'd have taken the dark digimon together. Why'd you do it? Why'd you kill her?"

"Come out and fight, you coward! Worm! Deceitful betrayer! You should have thought about that before you deleted Guilmon. For him I will make you suffer."

"You have no right," he hissed. "You killed _my_ friend."

He risked a glance from behind the tree, seeing Renamon standing in a clearing, facing away from him and scanning the wood for sight of him. He could strike then and there, end it all, but something held him back.

"Are all humans so unfeeling?" she cried, spinning around to search for the sound of his voice. It seemed to come from all around her, confusing her senses. "When _my_ friends die they do not come back."

"Neither do mine," he hissed. "Samantha is gone, forever. You killed her here, _and_ in the real world."

Renamon was silent for a while and he risked another glance out of his hiding place, seeing her spinning around, still trying to locate him. "I do not believe you," she said at length.

"I spent last night hunting down every digimon that ever lay a finger on her," he said, his eyes narrowed against tears. "They are all dead. Soon you will share their fate. You arranged all this, you are ultimately to blame for her death. I hold you, the only one left, responsible."

He realised with a shock that his casting had worn off, his voice pinpointed his location exactly. He struggled with it, trying to delve into the depths of the digital world and enable it again but nothing seemed to work. It was as if a connection had been severed. Renamon had not missed the change and was upon him in a flash, her sharp claws cutting painfully into his flesh and tearing his thin armour away in chunks. He tried to fight back but all the strength seemed to have left him.

"What's happening?" Renamon cried, falling back from him and clutching at her head. The blue fire around her paws had gone out and her eyes seemed dull. She tried to sit up and swipe at him but he deflected her uncoordinated and weak attack almost effortlessly with a bat of his arm, pushing her over in the process. He was feeling strange, weak and impotent. His senses seemed dulled, like someone had placed a bag over his head and he was hearing and seeing out through the plastic.

Jason shook the fuzz away, diving into his consciousness once more and searching the maps the others had carried, trying to deny the niggling thought that came to mind.

"Shit," he swore out loud. Somewhere in the distance a thunderous sound could be heard, and above them the sky was turning prematurely dark. Their fight was forgotten. "We're in a deletion zone, it's been activated, we're being separated from the rest of the world. Our strength is failing."

The rumbling was growing ever closer, and over their heads tiny black shapes flew by, taking a small chunk of the world away with them on each pass. Scraps of leaves and twigs, blossom and insects fell in a gentle rain all around. Entire trees were chewed down to nothing before their eyes. Renamon trembled on the forest floor, watching in fear and confusion, her strength gone with her connection to the digital dimension. "Is this what happened to Guilmon?" she asked fretfully.

"Yes," he said. "And it's about to get a whole lot worse. How were you reassembling the world, the other day? Do it again, or we're both done for!"

"I… I cannot," she said, her voice unsteady. "I can barely stand up."

He swore again, diving deeper than ever into the substrate of the digital world, so far down until he could see the electronic signals that made up everything around them and the fear of becoming lost amongst them forever gnawed at his soul. They were a confusing mess, an infinite rat's nest of threads and processes, memory and nodes. He tried to isolate just a few of them, hoping to identify them. The world-eaters were simple constructs, automatons injected into the simulation a long time ago when they barely understood the digital dimension and he grabbed at their familiar forms by the thousands, tearing their runtime stacks down in an effort to stop them and absorb the processor time they were using.

"Renamon," he gasped, rising back up from the sea of data. He now had enough power within his avatar to fight again, or perhaps to do something greater. "Take my hands," he ordered, reaching out to her and grabbing her paws. She resisted feebly, convinced of his intention to attack her one final time and tried to pull away but he grabbed on strongly and pulled her back, commanding her to obey him, and she was too weak to resist.

"Concentrate!" he shouted above the apocalyptical roar, pulling her upright and forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were dull and unfocused, barely staying on his own. She was slowly falling apart like an old stuffed toy, shimmering around the edges like she was out of focus, and yet she was his only hope of getting out alive. Her paws felt deathly cold and not entirely solid in his grip and he tried to expend some of his power to warm her and keep the disassemblers away long enough for her to work her magic.

Concentrating hard he transferred the process time from his avatar's own threads to hers, slowly breathing life back into her. She began to wake, and for a terrifying moment he thought she would abuse the gift he had given her and use their last combined metaphorical breath to doom them both, but she set her mouth in a determined line and thrust his hands away like he was some disgusting object she hated to touch. He collapsed bonelessly back onto the ground and watched with a vague, detached curiosity as the blue smoke reappeared, swirling around her like a miniature tornado. What remained of the ground around them began to shake and tremble, the hazy trees vibrating as they started to regain their structure and solidity.

When the smoke faded away to nothing she remained standing shakily with her arms at her sides and her gaze lucid and alert once more. With a shock he realised how vulnerable he was, lying at her feet like a fish out of water, while she stood proud and strong. She held his gaze for a long while, unmoving and unspeaking before bounding off without a glance back.

He was alone, but alive.


	9. Chapter 9

Jason sat unhappily by a wide window in one of his rare lucid waking moments, looking out over a gently sloping green lawn, precisely mown and bordered by a wide ring of tarmac that lead up to the front entrance of the training camp on the opposite side of the base. Rivulets of water ran down the glass and gushed from overflowing gutters above the simple metal roofs of the barracks across the other side. It had been raining for two days, barely letting up for more than ten minutes at a time. The weather was fit to match his mood.

With a shaking hand he tossed back several more pills, washing them down with a swig of water and trying to quell the sickness in his stomach that threatened to bring them back up again. Someone switched on the striplights in the room, turning the glass before him into a mirror and blocking out the gloomy evening beyond the window. He caught a brief glance of his reflection before he tore his eyes away, depressed further by the gaunt, sickly looking man who stared back. He had seen zombies in films that looked more alive than he did.

He turned around stiffly, watching Mack Bailey shuffle across the floor to him.

"Hey, man," Bailey said, sitting on the edge of a table and folding his hands in his lap. "How're you holding up? You're looking better."

Jason coughed painfully, barely able to grin. "Bollocks I am," he said, swallowing the metallic taste in his throat. He tried not to think about it. "I'm dying, Mack."

"Don't say that," Bailey said, fixing him with a stern gaze. "If you ain't got hope yourself nobody's never going to fix you. Starts in here, it does." The big man thumped his own chest with a thick fist.

Jason stared back out at the reflective window, trying to see past his own hideous image. "I don't think I want to be fixed," he said quietly.

Bailey shook his head. "I know what it's like, losin' a friend," he said slowly. Long sentences and deep conversation did not come naturally to him. "I lost a few over the years. First month's the hardest, then it gets better. You gotta remember the good stuff, be glad for the time you had, not sad for the time you don't."

"Oh, it's not just Sam," Jason said. Truth was that the pain of her demise was almost losing out to the physical suffering he was going through, and all the tears he was able to shed had been cried. "We hadn't known each other long, but, you know, it felt _right_."

"Then what's eating you up so bad?"

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I'm not afraid to die. I was all for going out in a blaze of righteous glory, avenging Sam and scouring the digital world clean as my last act. I began this whole affair over two years ago, it seemed fitting that I should have been the one to end it, too."

Giving one's life for a just cause was something Mack Bailey did understand, his entire service to the military had taught him that. "You don't think you can do it?"

"No," he said, frowning and shaking his head. "Not that at all. I discovered a new way to access the digital dimension, right down at the root level. I could access near infinite power if I wanted to, I think."

Jason paused and shuffled to the window, peering out into the gloom. "Don't you ever think that maybe this is immoral?"

Bailey's brows knitted together in a serious frown. "No. You taught me and Samantha that, it's all pre-determined, there's no morals."

"I'm not so sure anymore," he admitted. "I've spent so long thinking I was right, that they weren't alive, but now I'm faced with my own mortality it's made me question theirs. Renamon had her chance to finish me earlier, but she didn't. Why? If the simulation was trying to protect itself then it would have known I was the greatest threat to its existence, it would have taken me out. It's had a couple of opportunities now, and it never takes them. I think Renamon stopped because it was _her_ decision to let me live, not the simulation's_._"

"That's why you didn't want me to shoot," Bailey said, casting his mind back to the battle. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't know."

"It's okay," he said weakly. "It probably won't make any difference. We – humans – we'll keep at it, take them all out eventually, even if it's not through this project then someone else will find a way to target the processes themselves and wipe it out that way, or something else. But what really bugs me is not knowing, and a feeling of uselessness. I can see the end rushing up, and suddenly I have nothing to do but wait for it. And there's stuff out there that I don't know, I thought I'd done all there was to be done, seen all there was to be seen, but I'm afraid that I've only scratched the dull, pitted surface and now I'll never get to see the shiny metal beneath."

"Then I think you gotta get back in there," Bailey told him with a nod. "You can't do nothing here, but in there you can work it out. If you're sure that your time's come then I ain't gonna argue with you but you should try and work your own mind out before you go."

Regardless of what he wanted to do he intended to go back into the digital world, simply because there the pain went away. Stein still wanted him to fight for them and he was too fed up to argue so agreed to accompany one of the zoning squads as protection. Their progress was slowed significantly by the weaponry and body armour each man was carrying, protection against the roving hordes they would encounter from time to time.

There was little for him to do but scout ahead, scaring away any small creatures that strayed near. He had turned off his tracking programs, not wanting to know where Renamon was. The thought of her brought too many painful memories surging to the surface, and his internal conflict over the vixen was still strong. Half of him wanted desperately to see her again as the friend she had almost become, but the other half wanted to destroy her for the murderess he was convinced she was. It was easier to just pretend she did not exist.

Their small group of four set up camp for the night. The other three were all VR operators and needed rest and downtime from the constant running. Night had descended upon the landscape with the usual unsettling rapidity and they had each unfurled small tents, staked out a safe distance from the edge of the forest they were skirting around and close to a steep hill that descended down to a flat plain covered in scraggly bushes and grasses. Jason conjured a soft pad of foam and lay down on it, pulling a virtual blanket around him and resting his head on an imagined pillow that appeared as he willed it. He looked up at the clouds above, scudding past on the sharp wind that blew and considered magicking a tent to deflect the chill but he felt so tired of it all that he could not raise the energy to care enough. The cold would not hurt him. The others wished him goodnight and disconnected, their avatars lying still, asleep and in recovery mode.

He tried to stay awake, as he had promised, but the clouds eventually blew away and the wind stopped entirely until the night air became still and calm, the stars above twinkling so therapeutically that he dozed off. His dreams were chaotic and made little sense, likely a product of his failing body and mind.

One dream was particularly vivid and he awoke from it suddenly, opening his eyes and taking a sharp breath when he saw the dark blade hovering above his head, glinting in the moonlight. Two bright blue eyes stared down at him from behind it, a white paw wrapped around its hilt. He forced his breathing to stay regular and looked into Renamon's eyes calmly, willing her to do what she came for.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked softly, slowly raising his hand up to grab her wrist and pulling the point of the blade closer to his chest until he could feel the prick of its point against his skin. The real and intense sensation of pain was welcome through the numbness that had taken over him the last couple of days. He could feel her shaking with anger, the blade trembled against his skin. "Do it. I welcome the darkness."

"Damn you," she whispered, pulling away from him sharply and raising the knife up above him only to bring it plunging down into the pillow, just barely grazing the side of his face. "Leave us alone!"

Jason lay perfectly still as she leapt over him and away, the brief rush of air thick with her scent. The knife blade quivered beside him, so close to his ear he could hear it ringing with a mellow, lonely sound.

When his pulse had returned to normal he sat up and checked on his three companions. They all lay peacefully in their tents, each lying on his back with arms folded over his chest. They would be okay without him for a while, he decided, there had been little around lately. Quietly he made his way through the darkness in the direction Renamon had fled, starlight illuminating his path. What was she doing there? Had she been following them? Why now? His silent questions were answered only by the whisper of the tall grasses that brushed against his bare hands, reminding him of the first moment he ever spent under the implants and the unreal beauty of the virtual world.

In the forest he crept quietly, breathing deeply of the air and hoping to catch Renamon's sweet scent again but the heady smell of moss and damp earth disguised anything he might have sensed and he wandered almost aimlessly for some time until, by chance alone, he caught the unmistakable glimmer of a light through the trees. His acute hearing could just pick up the soft crackle of a fire somewhere before him and he crept silently forwards like a skilled hunter after his prey.

At a low wooden fence he stopped and observed, well hidden by the undergrowth and darkness. His mouth hung open slightly because he was deeply surprised. Renamon had a _home._ The fence ringed a moderately sized area with small wooden huts surrounding a large tree that had been separated out from the rest of the woods. Midway up its trunk was a partially completed treehouse, strapped securely to the thick branches that split away from the main tree. Here and there small torches burnt and so close the air was thick with their oily scent. Up in the treehouse small windows glowed with a magical blue light. Only one being he knew could create a glow like that.

A quick dive into the digital substrate rendered him almost invisible to the two biyomon sentries that walked lazily around the compound. They looked young, like adolescents, bright but small. As he crept slowly and silently by them he peered through a tiny window into one of the wooden huts, spying two very young digimon asleep on small cots filled with soft grass. By the time he made his way up the winding ladder to the central treehouse structure he was still struggling to understand what was going on. It was unprecedented and he was still convinced that they should not be able to create such complex things themselves. Where was that ability coming from?

The treehouse was divided into two rooms by a thin wooden partition and he could hear the gentle hiss of Renamon's breathing through a doorway cut into it, covered in many strings of little beads. He tip-toed across to the entrance, peering through and seeing her asleep on a low bed, similarly padded out with fresh cut hay. She was on her side, as she almost always slept, her head resting on one paw and the other twitching restlessly at her side in rhythm to whatever she was dreaming about.

Ever so carefully he pushed the beads apart and slid through, holding his breath as they clicked quietly against each other. When he had set off he was irritated and had come with the intention of getting angry, of making her fight him, making her finish his sorry existence but as he watched the peaceful expression on her face he found his irritation fading away to nothing, extinguished like a flame under water. He cast a glance back out of the doorway, just able to see the flicker of torches down below lighting up the ceiling in the first room and as he looked back to her his heart ached with sorrow for these misunderstood creatures. She was only trying to look after her young, he could see that now. An entirely new side to Renamon was opening up before his eyes, a softer, caring side that was usually so well hidden.

Jason crouched down beside her, watching her in silence. It was the first time he had really taken the time to look at her since entering the digital world under the implants. He had thought her appearance striking before but with the infinite resolution afforded to him now he could see her beauty above all else. Often when he was with her she was dirty and ruffled from fighting but that night she was clean and brushed, every single hair in place and lit with an other-worldly light. An unexpected feeling tugged at his heart, completely throwing him off balance.

He dared to reach a hand out and ran it lightly over one of her pointed ears in a gentle caress, the softness of her fur sending tiny shivers over his skin. He drew it back quickly as she stirred, fidgeting slightly and cursed himself for giving into such a ridiculous urge. She was beginning to wake and he acted fast, drawing forth a faintly glowing white net that settled firmly over her body leaving only her head exposed. Small sparks crackled off the edges and burnt away with cold flashes of blue.

Renamon's eyes snapped open and she fought against the restraint.

"Hello, Ren," he said, unsmiling.

"Get out of here!" she hissed at him, her fangs bared as she struggled uselessly.

"You know, I came here to fight you," he said, smiling grimly. "To finish what I thought you were about to start. Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? That's twice now."

"I wish now that I had," she growled, her voice low to avoid disturbing the silence of the night. "You are unworthy of this world."

He snorted quietly through his nose and looked away. "Maybe I am. But I was wrong about you. In so many ways." He changed his tone and waved an arm at the windows. "What are you doing here? Is this some sort of training camp?"

She relaxed under the net, resigned to the fact she was not going anywhere. She was completely at his mercy, just like he had been an scant hour before. "Not in the way you are imagining. This is a nursery." She turned her head sharply, catching his gaze. Her ears were folded back flat against her head, her eyes wide and dark and when she spoke next her voice was soft and pleading. "Please, Jason, do what you like with me, but leave them alone. They have little enough time left. Let them live that in peace."

He waved his hand lazily at her and the net disappeared. She sat up slowly, brushing her fur back down and watching him warily. "I'm not going to hurt anyone," he said with a sigh. "Least of all you. But you're making things worse here, you know that, right?"

She cocked her head to one side, studying his face intently. He pointed at her ruff and the pendant he knew she was wearing. "Making more digimon, or helping the young ones grow, it all takes up even more bandwidth, makes you more of a target. They're better off small, less worthy of our attention. They don't know this place is here yet, but they know there's _something_ going on. That's what those three agents are doing. They're looking for you."

Renamon fingered the pendant under her fur, looking down at it sadly. His heart felt heavy. "Do you really want to make a child in this world? Condemn it to death as soon as it's hatched?"

"It's all I've ever wanted," she told him, so quietly it was barely a whisper.

"I'm so sorry," he said suddenly, his chest tight. Once again she had turned his rage into love and there seemed to be nothing he could do to control it. He knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace and holding her tightly. She barely resisted before clutching at his back, her face pressed against his neck. He could feel the dampness of her tears on his skin.

A minute passed like an hour and she tore herself away from him, refusing to meet his gaze as she wiped at her eyes. "You are insufferable," she said. "One minute I want to kill you, the other…" her voice trailed off.

"I know," he said with a sigh. His heart was beating faster than he thought it should be able to and he could feel the redness in his cheeks. "Look, I promise not to tell anyone about this place. But please, please, think twice before you use your pendant."

Jason stood and made to leave, but Renamon clutched at the hem of his shirt, holding him back. "Wait," she said. "I do not understand. Why now? Why have you changed so?"

He shrugged. "I'm dying," he said simply, surprised at how easy it was to say. "It changes your outlook on things."

"What?" she exclaimed, sitting up straighter with eyes wide. "Has someone hurt you?"

He shook his head. "No. It started the moment I entered this world. A side effect of my being here. We didn't know. Biological doesn't mix well with digital, it turns out. See you around, Ren."

He slipped out between the beads before she could comment or stop him, leaping down into the soft leafy ground with a thud and startling the two guards. With a hiss of air and a swirl of leaves he was gone, leaving the two puzzled biyomon to look up at where Renamon had rushed to her balcony and now stood squinting out into the dark forest.

She shook her head and took notice of them, looking down fondly. "Go to sleep, you two. I will finish your watch."

They obeyed her without question, hurrying away, and she leant against the wooden railing that wound around the balcony outside the treehouse, keeping a keen eye on the edge of the little settlement and thinking hard. "There is little chance of sleep returning tonight," she said to the darkness.

* * *

><p>Jason felt unreasonably smug and pleased with his exit, however melodramatic it might have been. If it caused her some turmoil then he felt sure she deserved it for all the tangled feelings she awoke in him. Something strange had happened inside him, something he could never have predicted. He was a little afraid of the affectionate feelings that chewed at his heart, an odd desire for an imaginary character in a computer simulation, and she was not even human.<p>

On top of this he was astonished at how calm he felt, despite his impending and seemingly inevitable demise. Having told Renamon about his sickness it felt as if his head had cleared and the weight that had pressed down on him was lessened, something had been resolved at last. There was less to worry about, nothing to plan for and no stress. She was not angry with him anymore, and he no longer felt like he had a score to settle. It was remarkable the difference it made.

He was sitting cross legged on the ground, picking at the grass in front of him to pass the time. To his relief the three tents were still intact, their slumbering occupants undisturbed and unmolested. He would have felt very guilty if anything had happened to them during the remainder of the night because of his gallivanting around in the forest.

During the early morning he had busied himself setting a partial ring of markers as far away from Renamon's home as he felt he could convince his companions of, and when they signed back into the network he explained that he had found a half completed zone that had been missed off their work logs. They agreed, after a small argument, that it would be a better use of their time and so he diligently led his small team away from the forest, out into the plains.

"You look pretty tired," one of them commented. He knew the agent's name and tried to remember the real-world face to go with it, recalling a young recruit fresh out of college and eager to get involved. "Thanks for looking after our bodies. The commander gets real angry when we lose them."

"I know, kid," Jason said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I lost a fair few, too. Don't let him put you off."

"What's it like, sir?" the agent asked. "Having it in your head, like."

"Painful," was his only response. "I don't recommend it."

"Are you really leaving us soon?"

"What?" he said, looking obliquely across. "Who told you that?"

"The commander said you were retiring. How old are you, sir?"

Jason laughed, confusing the kid. "Something like that I guess. And old enough."

Life continued for another unremarkable week. Jason spent days at a time in a deeply drugged state, unwaking in the real world and fed intravenously by machines and doctors, locked away in a lab underneath the base. The few hours he spent awake were hard to remember and ill defined, seen through a haze of pain that almost left him blind. It was the real world that seemed like a dream now, the virtual one was where he was really awake. He had asked that they simply keep him alive as long as possible, by whatever means they could, just so he could spend his last few days helping the digimon and trying to convince Stein to let them be once it was over.

In the digital dimension they encountered a few patrols of dark digimon as they worked near the imposing boundary between the two distinct parts of the world but Jason was easily a match for them, even when they arrived in groups of ten or twenty. He was pleasantly surprised to find that his suggestion about focusing their efforts on the boundaries was mostly being taken into account as well, and they were slowly carving a great barrier of void between the two worlds, impassable and absolute. There was a massive amount of work left to be done but at least they were concentrating on the right things now.

From time to time he thought he sensed Renamon nearby, even though he had turned his locator off permanently. Sometimes he would catch a brief flash of yellow out on the periphery of his vision that he could almost pass off as his mind playing tricks on him, and other times he liked to entertain the thought that she was looking out for him. He fought against the urge to go and find her, to see her again. Their last contact had scared him, left him afraid of the newest feelings she had awoken in him, afraid of the treacherous and pleasant sensation that had fizzled through his body when she had returned his embrace so tightly and desperately. It would be unfair on either of them to get any closer, knowing full well that his time was limited.

Commander Stein left him alone for the most part, perhaps aware that he was living out his last few days and respectful of the need to keep a distance, but occasionally orders would come through, transmitted by word of mouth via one of the terminal or VR users when they had no option but to ask for his help. This time he was instructed to meet a group of soldiers back at the hub of the world, a disturbance had been detected and he was to help them investigate and fight if necessary.

It did not take him long to arrive, finding a group of eight soldiers kitted out in their full armour and field gear, all of them jacked in via the VR units. Jason understood that with the cash saved from shutting down the implant program they had been able to commission many more of the hamster balls and the goons to run them.

"What's the situation?" he said, trying to appear uninterested and flicking water out of his eyes. Rain in the digital world was unusual but in this region the clouds were thick overhead and had opened up, drenching them to the skin and making the ground slick and muddy. He would have much rather been back in the little cave he had found for himself, warm and dry. At least in the VR sphere he had only had a warning about rain, whereas with the implants he was uncomfortably aware of it dripping down his neck and soaking into his boots.

One of the troopers stepped forward and saluted sharply. Jason waved him away irritably, he was fed up of the military aspect of the operation. "Sir, operations has detected a large gathering of digimon out to the west, processing patterns are unusual. We are to investigate, sir."

Rainwater dripped down into his eyes again, making him blink rapidly to clear it. "Any more to go on?"

"No, sir, we are to establish visual on the target and act accordingly. Commander Stein is in direct command."

They moved out in the downpour, all of them using their speed multipliers effectively to travel quickly, although not as fast as Jason would have liked. They were slipping and sliding in the wet grass, if it were dry they could surely go faster and he was anxious to get back to the moat he was helping to create. When he was gone for good progress would be slower and he was anxious to give them as much of a headstart as possible. The dark digimon were fierce and targeted digimon and humans indiscriminately. Jason feared that the native digimon would need all the help they could get in the coming months.

It was some time before he realised the direction in which they were heading and when it dawned on him his heart sank. Renamon came to him while they rested for the night, cleanly snapping the neck of the only other guard left awake, sluggish in the rain that still fell in sheets. His avatar disintegrated in a flash of light and a crackle of sound audible over the hiss of raindrops, alerting Jason to her presence immediately.

She stood close enough to touch and bared her teeth at him angrily, water pouring off her sodden fur. At least this time she was not hovering over him with a knife. "I trusted you," she growled. "You promised. I believed you."

"There's nothing I can do," he said, pleading with his eyes for her to believe him. "I'm not in charge here. They are. I didn't say a word, but they've spotted your school, just like I warned you they would."

His hair was plastered down against his head and he flicked it out of the way to look around nervously, checking for any sign of movement from the remaining seven agents. "You've got to get out of here, the one you killed will be alerting the others back in the real world, they'll wake any minute. I won't be able to help you, if I tried to turn on them I'd get maybe five minutes before they'd unplug me. Permanently."

She stamped her foot angrily on the ground with a wet squelch. Her fur was sodden and her ankles coated in mud from the run. "There must be something you can do!"

He thought for a moment, an idea forming. "Maybe there is. But you need to distract them, lead them away from here, away from the forest."

"How?"

"I don't know. Are there more of you who can fight?"

"No, only me. The others are too young."

"Well, you'll have to do. They're pretty desperate to catch you, so maybe they'll take the bait." He looked sideways at the camp, one of the avatars was beginning to twitch as its operator began to synchronise. His eyes opened, looking around hazily as he got his bearings. "Hit me!" Jason urged Renamon.

"What?" she exclaimed, leaning back, away from him.

"Don't argue. Hit me!" he said, his arms apart. "You've never had any problem with it in the past."

She punched him in the shoulder, far too feebly to even pretend that it was real but they were out of time and it would have to do so he fell to the ground, rolling in the mud and clutching at his arm theatrically. "Run," he hissed at her before rolling over to yell to the others. "Quick! It's Renamon! She's injured, whoever finishes her off will surely get a medal!"

There was a commotion of shouting from the soldiers as they grabbed their armour and weapons and leapt to his defence. Renamon cast him a sceptical look before bounding away, all but one of the soldiers following her and barely keeping up. Jason winced as he heard gunfire, but there was little he could do for her now the ball was rolling.

"Sir!" came the concerned voice of the young soldier from before. "Are you hurt? What should I do?"

He tried to put on a voice that said 'I've made an honourable sacrifice' as he spoke. "Go after her, kid, there's nothing you can do here."

"I can't leave an old man behind," the solider said, aghast. "I can carry you."

"I'm not old," he said from between gritted teeth, speaking each word individually. "I'm just ill. Get after her or I'll have you up before the commander!"

That did the trick. The young soldier gulped visibly and saluted sharply before running off after the others, slipping and stumbling in the wet grass. Jason waited just long enough to be sure they were out of visual range then got up, running as fast as he knew how into the forest and towards where he remembered Renamon's camp to be.

The two biyomon guards were on duty again, only now they were much larger and meaner looking after a couple of weeks' intensive training. He skidded to a halt at the fence and they rushed over to him, squawking indignantly and brandishing their claws. "Be gone!"

When he hesitated one of them leapt at him with a hiss, leaping over the low fence and slashing at him viciously with her long curved talons. Renamon clearly had them on high alert. A gout of green flame shot out of somewhere, scalding him down one side.

"Stand down," he cried, trying to fend off their attacks without hurting them. "Renamon sent me, I'm here to help you!"

They paused briefly, looking down at him. "You're the visitor," one said as realisation dawned, recognising him from the brief glance they had a week before.

"Renamon's secret admirer!" said the other, standing back with a slightly awed look on her beaky face, then looked shocked when she realised what she had blurted out. "We so sorry!"

He sat up and blinked at them. "What?" he asked incredulously. "I'm not… oh, nevermind. Look, there's men coming this way, they intend to hurt you. I'm going to hide you. I need silence and not to be disturbed."

They escorted him to the centre of the camp where many inquisitive young faces were watching from windows and doorways. Renamon had woken them all, making them ready to flee if necessary. The two biyomon shooed them away, shutting doors forcefully and squawking over the bickering children. Jason tried his hardest to ignore them, sitting down on the mossy earth underneath the great tree in the centre and closing his eyes. Thankfully the ground was relatively dry, sheltered by the thick canopy overhead and the treehouse underneath. He had never attempted anything as complex as hiding an entire section of the world before and was a little worried that he would not be able to manage it.

Again he found himself floating in a sea of data without structure, diving and weaving between the pulsating, flashing structures that represented the code underneath the world. This time, however, he had been thinking beforehand and the seemingly random patterns of nodes and packets began to arrange themselves into some semblance of a pattern or structure, allowing him access to higher level functions and data stores.

Jason plucked carefully at a few processes, absorbing their data streams into his own and manipulating them as if he were a node in the network himself. It was demanding work but he was able to track the lines he needed eventually and re-wrote them, hiding their existence from the protocols he knew the operations centre used for their visualisation of the digital world.

Once the first piece of re-written code was in place he duplicated it a thousand times, inserting it into all the nodes he could find in the area, splicing code fragments into one another with a speed he could never have done a year earlier, working in his landlady's basement room on a single physical terminal in the real world. The feeling of power and command was intoxicating and he wondered briefly if he could just stay where he was for the rest of his life but reminded himself he had a job to do before he could give in.

The stress of the operation was beginning to take its toll and he found that for the first time his virtual body was starting to experience the same all-over headache he felt in the real world. Reluctantly he stopped his work, realising that he was shortening what little uncertain time he had left. If the symptoms were spilling over into the virtual world then the situation with his physical body must be getting dire indeed.

With a gasp of breath he had been holding he resurfaced and opened his eyes to the curious gazes of the two bird-like digimon, mere inches from his face. He cried out with a start and scrabbled backwards, shocked by their enormous faces filling his vision

"You alright, admirer?" one asked, eyes wide. "You gone pale."

He held a hand to his head, rubbing at it as if he could sooth the gentle throbbing inside. His chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it. "Yes," he lied. "Fine. I just hope it worked."

"I not see anything," the other said doubtfully, looking around and settling her wings again, throwing rainwater off her back.

He raised an eyebrow at her, twisting his lips into a wry grin. "That's the point."

Jason stood up, intending to leave, but as he did so the world rapidly fell away from him and he collapsed onto the ground, dazed and sick to the depths of his stomach. He groaned in agony and curled up into a foetal position, clutching at his head and gut. The two biyomon chattered loudly in alarm, fretting around him like hens while he moaned wordlessly, unable to contain the agony he felt. His condition had worsened far more than he thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Jason awoke to the familiar scent of Renamon and in his dozy state he decided that there were far worse things to wake up to. His head ached like the morning after a heavy night out and his stomach felt unsettled, but at least he was warm, lying in something soft and covered with a downy blanket. His eyes felt gummy and thick, stuck together with dried sleep and he prised them apart uncomfortably, immediately wishing he had not bothered as the bright light of day hurt his head even more.

He looked around, finding himself upon Renamon's bed of soft straw, covered with a soft green blanket. Everything smelled of her and he smiled, wriggling down into the straw and feeling at peace again. He could smell damp forest wafting in on a gentle breeze, the rain storm had passed finally.

There was a gentle squawk from outside and his peace was short lived.

"Jason!" exclaimed the yellow vixen, by his side in a flash. He winced, shirking away at the suddenness of her appearance. Her fur glowed painfully bright in the sunlight streaming through the window. "What have you done?"

"Hi," he said sheepishly. His head was spinning in a daze and everything felt like a dream, from the strange detachment he felt to the exotic creature before him. The world spun faster and faster and his vision wavered uncontrollably. Renamon took his head gently between her paws and made him look at her, peering into his eyes one at a time.

"You're pretty," he slurred before passing out again.

"Stay awake," she urged, shaking him slightly. "I don't know what to do. Please, Jason!"

His head felt heavy in her paws and she lay it back down gently on the pillow. She was no expert on human physiology but he felt cold and clammy to her touch and his appearance was not all it used to be. Dark circles were forming around his eyes and his skin was a terrible shade of white, thin and stretched looking. Each breath sounded like it was causing him great pain and his heartbeat was slow, too slow. Her paws were shaking uncontrollably and she was terrified of the helpless uncertainty she felt, an almost entirely alien concept for her. Renamon was _always _in control.

"Do not leave me again," she begged, laying her head down on his chest and hugging him gently. "I have so little left."

Jason remained still, unconscious and unhearing, dead to the world. Had he been awake and lucid he might have just heard the sound of his ECG monitor in the real world emitting a flatline beep, his heart having stopped. His virtual body followed quickly, the connection between them rapidly failing. Renamon clutched helplessly at the blanket covering him as his body shook with one last ragged breath and the laboured sound of his pulse stopped.

A strange thing can happen in the moments before death, time seems to stretch out for longer than anyone could imagine, a product of the scarce remaining oxygen being consumed by a billion failing neurons and in their last discordant firings achieving a single moment of perfect, brilliant clarity. Jason's spirit was free, un-tethered to his corporeal body and able to perform one last task before oblivion, if he wanted. He chose to fall down into the code of the digital world he had once helped to sculpt, searching for someone he had once known. A name rang out around the uncountable spaces of the simulation. "_Tessa._"

Renamon squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry. Jason had been true to his word, the soldiers had passed on by, coming within a stone's throw of her compound and wandering on straight by as if they were blind. His magic had worked far better than even he could have anticipated, but ultimately he had given himself to save her tiny village and all the lives within it. She swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her, tilting her head back and thinking of nothing but darkness, imagining the voids she had fought so hard to prevent. It was something she would often do when she became agitated, forcing herself to think of nothing at all could help calm her, but this time it was not working.

The darkness she tried so hard to see was filled with flashes of light, snippets of images and memories that she was not even sure were hers. It had happened many times before, that disconcerting feeling of having someone else's memories, as if someone else was quietly hiding in her head. She shook it hard, trying to clear her thoughts but they just would not budge. Something caught her eye, and she started to pay attention, looking at the things her memories were showing her. Somewhere distant she could almost hear a disembodied voice, speaking in the most pure and soothing tones imaginable, the voice of her goddess calling out to her in a language she did not know, imploring her to do something, only she did not know what.

Images appeared over and over at speed, flashing before her mind's eye. The death of a digimon at her claws and the explosion of data that followed. Jason sneaking up and taking her pendant, Duskmon demanding its secrets. The young digimon in the compound below her, alive and new and laughing.

With a cry of comprehension Renamon tore the pendant from her neck, shocked to see the brightness with which it glowed, brighter than ever before and with colours she did not know existed. The room glowed with its intensity, brighter even than the strip of sunlight falling on the floor. She did not know exactly what to do, but trusted her instincts and pressed it to Jason's still chest, her own paw covering it entirely. Around her the blue fog materialised once again, whirling with an intensity that frightened even her this time. She whimpered quietly as straw and dust whipped at her, stinging her eyes and ears like a million tiny insects and tugging at the blanket.

Just when she thought she had made a mistake, it stopped, leaving a silence after the roar of the wind that was almost as intense. Her heart pumped painfully in her chest and she withdrew her shaking paw from Jason's chest, revealing the empty crystal, now devoid of any colour or light, just a worthless piece of glass once more, lying on the thin fabric of his shirt. As she watched it moved slightly, the tiniest rise and fall as Jason took shallow breaths.

Renamon cried out in joy and threw herself upon him, startling him awake. She wrapped her arms tightly around his chest, pressing her face into the crook of his neck again and laughing through tears of relief. Jason thumped her weakly on the back, "Can't… breathe…" he managed. She released him with a gasp and hugged herself tightly instead, embarrassed all of a sudden.

"You forget your own strength," he said, managing an exhausted smile and rubbing at his ribs as he sat stiffly up on the cot.

She reached out and took one of his hands in both her paws, squeezing it gently. "How do you feel?" she asked, leaning forward.

"Ugh, like I've overslept for hours," he grumbled. He looked around, finding himself somewhere familiar but also unsure of why he was there. "Headache's gone, though. I don't really recall a lot. What's… ah, happened? I feel… really strange."

Renamon surreptitiously leant forwards and scooped up the empty pendant, hiding it underneath the blanket. "You were ill," she told him sheepishly. "You overstretched yourself, hiding my village from the humans."

"Really?" he said, unsure. "I remember trying to hide everything, then it's like I know but can't remember what happened next. How long was I out? Did it work?"

"Yes, it worked. And not more than half a day."

Jason sat up straighter, feeling more aware and lucid by the second. He looked at her, his head to one side. She was kneeling beside him and looked extremely dishevelled, her fur all poking out at odd angles. The room was full of bits of straw and leaves and the few trinkets she had on a little shelf had fallen over. "Have you been crying?" he asked hesitantly, reaching out and stroking the little trail of wet underneath her eye with the back of his finger. He expected her to flinch away, but instead she leaned into his touch, her eye half closed.

Suddenly she realised what she was doing and snapped her head back, composing her features and looking away, staring intently at a point somewhere on the wall. "I must have got something in my eye." Renamon looked down at her body, suddenly horrified by the mess her fur was in, tufts pointing in all directions. She began furiously smoothing it down with her palms, glad of an excuse to focus her attention on something else. Jason watched her with a slightly devious grin on his face, aware of her sudden discomfort and enjoying it.

"Were you worried about me?" he asked innocently.

She snapped her head up and glared at him, her bright blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes. We will probably continue to require your help," she said, trying to sound businesslike once more. He just grinned even more and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face. "You said some peculiar things while you were half conscious," she said, hiding a grin of her own. "Do you really think I am pretty?"

The smirk dropped from his face and he blushed an astonishing shade of pink. "Did I say that?" he stammered.

"Yes," she said coyly, turning away to hide her smile. Her ears twitched traitorously, revealing her mirth for him to see.

He laughed and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Must have been dreaming about something, I guess," he said, with a quick grin that could almost have been a wink. She shook her head in despair as his infernal grin returned anew and climbed to her feet, her knees complaining after having knelt down for so long.

"Are you well enough to walk?"

"Of course," he replied confidently, swinging his legs out from under the blanket and jumping nimbly to his feet. His confidence was premature, however, and the room began to swim until he sat back down heavily on the side of the cot. "Whoa, maybe not. Jesus, what was I drinking?"

"Take it slower," she suggested, helping him to his feet. "You are very weak."

"A bit of fresh air and a walk might help," he admitted, blinking rapidly to try and clear his swaying vision.

Renamon took him on a very slow and gentle tour of her settlement, nestled away among the trees and introduced him warily to some of her young charges. It turned out that she had started the settlement soon after the creation of the world, collecting those digimon who had the capacity for intelligence but no way to learn and helped them as best she could, protecting them from the wild, feral creatures that roamed the woods. She spoke briefly of Guilmon, how he had helped her start to build the treehouse and round up her first group, but when he pressed for details of her relationship with the red dragon she became quiet and withdrawn.

"I know not what to do to protect this place," she admitted glumly as he sat on a tree stump, resting. He still felt peculiar, not all there, like pieces of him were missing. "Once it was enough to simply drive away the ferals, but then the dark digimon came, and now against your people I stand little hope."

"I promise you, Ren, I'll do everything in my power to stop them. When I get back to the real world I'm going to find our commander and make him see sense. I know I don't have long left, but I promise you I will do absolutely everything that I can."

"I know you will," she said, smiling weakly. "I am profoundly sorry."

"For what?" he asked in surprise.

"For doubting your intentions. I cannot remember the number of nights I have paced around this very tree stump, thinking of nothing but your demise. I am ashamed, after all you have done for us, all you went through."

She knelt down on one knee in front of him, her head bowed in dishonour and her paws clasped loosely before her. "Get up," he said irritably, waving his hand at her. "It's fine, it was the least I could do. I won't have you grovelling in the dirt like that. I just fainted, it's been a tiring few days."

She climbed reluctantly to her feet, fidgeting on the spot and avoiding his eyes. "I must check on my young ones," she announced, looking for an excuse to get away from the man around whom she felt so awkward. "You may stay here as long as you need."

Jason had intended to leave as soon as possible, keen to get back to his work but when he slowed his thoughts down long enough to actually look around him he found that the little secluded village within the trees was utterly charming, particularly as night fell and the countless torches burst into life and threw a warm glow over everything. He sat peacefully in a carved wooden chair under the shelter of a flowering tree, warmed by a small fire that one of the adolescent agumon had built nearby. He had tried to help but as soon as he tried to stand up his legs had started to shake and he had reluctantly sat down again. Something was very wrong, it was like his body was not properly under his control anymore.

With little else to do he was cautiously investigating some more of the things he had learnt about the underworld and in his hands laid a short section of a fallen branch, riddled with holes where he had been learning to alter existing materials, rather than conjuring them from the ether as he did with his weapons. The holes might not have been very impressive to look at but considering he had made them with nothing but his mind he was inordinately pleased with them. It proved that he could modify the structure of the world in fine detail, as well as read it. Satisfied with his control over the process he picked up a fresh piece and began stripping the twigs from its side then boring a hole down its length. He repeated the process on several more until he had a collection of varying lengths and thicknesses. Blowing experimentally over one end produced a soft, mellow sound.

"You know," he said to the handful of digimon who had come to watch him work, "the level of detail in this world never ceases to amaze me. That this even works is astonishing." The digimon, of course, did not understand what he was talking about and chattered amongst themselves in a childish manner than made him smile. They uttered appreciative noises as he worked about tuning his instrument, blowing discordant notes until they rang true. The final touch was to warp a piece of wood around the neck of each, holding them in place.

"What is it, Jasonmon?" asked a lopmon, stepping forward with her long ears dragging on the ground behind her. Even more digimon had gathered now, all curious to see what the strange human was doing. They leaned closer, the firelight flickering in their wide eyes.

"This, my little friend, is a panflute," he replied, holding it up to his lips and blowing across the openings. Its sound was gentle and unusual, it was perhaps the first time music had been heard in the digital dimension's short history. The normally excitable digimon were transfixed by the sweet sound that echoed around the trees, not moving a muscle until he was finished.

"So pretty," murmured a biyomon, leaning on one of the others. "Again?"

He laughed and played another short tune, regaining his confidence. At college he had been quite the flutist, although it had been at least five years since he had touched any of his instruments, let alone the slightly obscure panflute. "I'm glad you like it," he told them, tucking the instrument away behind him. The digimon sighed in disappointment and clamoured for him to continue but he pleaded exhaustion and the eldest few shooed the rest away.

"Music," said Renamon from behind him, startling him. "It is something I have only second-hand memories of, like knowing the mechanics of running but never being able to experience it."

"Have you been there long?" he asked, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. She glided past and sat down on the mossy ground opposite him, looking up at him with the firelight shining in her fur. Somewhere above in the tree a bird called softly to another, a lonely sound.

"Long enough," she replied. "Will you play again?"

The firelight shimmered across her fur. "Will you ask me to?"

"Will you play for me, Jason?" she asked sweetly. "I would very much like to hear more."

He gladly pulled the flutes out again, playing a melancholy tune he remembered from long ago, a sad melody that seemed to have the same mesmerising effect on Renamon as it did on the others.

"There is so much meaning without words," she said sadly when he finished. "It is as if it speaks a story of its own."

"Very perceptive," he said. "There is a story. It is about an actress, old and close to death, looking back nostalgically on her life of glamour and fame. She remembers when she was young and beautiful, and not the empty husk she is now. Once she has remembered it all she feels ready to start a new life, having closed on this one. She goes gladly to her death, ready to be born again and start a new life."

The forest was silent for some time, the young digimon having been sent to their huts to sleep, and the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the occasional call of a night-bird somewhere in the distance.

"I have heard that some digimon are reborn," Renamon said at last, speaking slowly and quietly. "After they are deleted. If their data is not absorbed by another then it returns to the world and can find its way into an egg again. Is that true?"

"I don't know, Renamon," he said, handing her the panflute. "I hope so."

"Will _you_?" she asked before blowing tentatively over them as she had seen Jason do. A single note filled the air, fading away to nothing.

"No," he replied. "I'm not digital. However much it feels like I'm really here, I'm not. My body and mind are in the real world, and it doesn't work like that for us. When we die we just go away."

Another soft note echoed around the trees. "Are you afraid?"

"I was," he said after some thought. "But not anymore. I've had a remarkable life, and, in a way, I've lived two of them, one out there and one in here with you guys. It's more than most people get, and I'm thankful for that. I'm glad I've met all the digimon. I'm thankful that I've met you." The last bit made her smile softly.

"I wish very much that I could help you more," she said, her normally emotionless voice thick with regret. "But I have no power that can help you."

"That you care enough to want to help me makes it easier," he told her, his chest tight.

They did not speak again for some time, Jason content to gaze up at the virtual heavens and listen to Renamon's disjointed attempts at music, quiet and soft in the darkness.

He stayed with them until late the next morning, recovering his strength and trying to make sense of the feelings and thoughts in his head. He received a bit of a shock in the morning when he announced his intention to disconnect and gave it a go, working through the familiar pathways in his mind to activate the machinery that would inject the appropriate drugs into his bloodstream and wake him from his induced coma.

"It's gone," he said in confusion and Renamon raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't disconnect. It's like there's a blanket over the portal to the real world. I can't see through it."

"Maybe the spell you cast has blocked your view out, as well?" she suggested. It made a certain amount of sense, he could not pretend he understood exactly what it was he had done when he created the shroud and it was possible it had done something to his own link. He just hoped it was not permanent. When they woke him manually, as they would eventually, then he would return to Earth, but what if he had inadvertently blocked any path to get back to the virtual one?

"Okay, I'm going to head out then," he said, quelling the slight panicked feeling that rose in his throat, a feeling of drowning without a rope to hold onto. "Find a spot in the open, away from here, and try again."

Renamon looked behind her anxiously, watching the young digimon playing in the spaces between the huts. He knew her two biyomon guards were asleep, resting after a long watch while he was ill and Renamon was waiting by his side.

"It's okay," he told her, reading her expression easily. "You stay here, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure you are well?" she asked. "Perhaps you should stay another day."

"Really, I'm fine," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't want to outstay my welcome, in any case."

"You haven't!" she said suddenly in a rare moment of speaking before her mind had time to intervene, then caught herself and sat back on her haunches. "I… enjoy having you here."

He felt his cheeks redden slightly and put it down to the heat. "Then I'll come back as soon as I can," he told her, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder as he stood. "I can help you continue to build your treehouse."

"I would like that," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. They were both pretending that they did not know that he was unlikely to ever return. "Are you certain you will be safe alone? I am sure one of the others could stand watch, so that I could accompany you."

"Now you're just trying to make an excuse to come with me," he said with a wide grin. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be back before you know it."

He said his goodbyes to the playful digimon that rushed around his feet as he walked across the enclosure, feeling Renamon's hot gaze on his back the whole way. They had both fidgeted awkwardly on the spot, each with a sense that there should be more to saying goodbye but in the end he had torn himself away, pausing at their fence and waving to her with a wink before disappearing into the trees. She stood beneath her tree and wrung her paws together, desperate to run after him but bound by her duty to her young.

Renamon was acutely aware that he had come back into her life only to leave again, and she did not know if he would ever return again. There were others watching her, so she was careful to control her appearance and from the outside she was the same, cold, calculating vixen that everybody knew. Underneath, however, she was distraught and as soon as she was alone the tears came again, seemingly unstoppable.

When they were finally over she punched a tree angrily, clenching her teeth together in frustration. Renamon hated that her feelings were getting the better of her, until Jason had come along the only other being that had ever seen her softer side was Guilmon. She was ashamed of the effect he had on her, seemingly without even trying. Did he know how he made her feel? Why was it so effortless?

Instinctively she reached for her pendant, usually a calming measure, but this time it was dull and empty. She had used it to save his life, but he was still not well, anybody could see that. She knew she had only extended his last few days, at the expense of something she had been planning for most of her life.

Back in the woods Jason's cheery demeanour fell away as soon as he was out of range and he stopped to rest against a tree. If he had told the truth then he would have said that he was not feeling at all well. He was short of breath and his head still swam slightly if he turned too quickly. The sickness in his stomach was not abating and he had not managed to eat more than a few scraps of dry bread, despite all the tasty looking things Renamon had brought him. To top it all in the back of his mind there was a feeling that she had still been hiding something from him, despite knowing how little time he had left. The sickness and disorientation had to be more than just a simple case of exhaustion. Whatever he had done deep inside the program had taken some far more serious effect on him, but he could not work out what. He had the feeling that she knew what that something was but was hiding it.

When he felt strong enough to go on again he broke out into the plains beyond the forest, climbing to the top of a small rise to survey his surroundings. He was not sure how far his shroud extended so he sat himself down on the warm grass and closed his eyes, concentrating hard on the mental hoops he had to jump through to access the real world. Again, it was like there was a blackness surrounding him, something he could just not penetrate.

"Crap!" he exclaimed aloud after a few more minutes trying. He would have to make his way further out. He began to worry what other abilities he had inadvertently crippled with his unwise meddling and tried a few of the other programs.

The result of his tracking program was interesting, it showed many humans nearby, within running distance if he could pick up his pace a little. Alarmingly there were many other contacts around the same area, unidentifiable and garbled.

Jason frowned and got to his feet, peering intently into the distance where he expected them to be but they were too far away to be visible, even with his keen eyesight. He began walking, progressing up to a gentle jog when he felt ready and within an hour he was close enough to see that something was not right at all.


	11. Chapter 11

A towering bank of grey-brown clouds rose up above the plains, casting everything into a dark, gloomy shadow. Occasionally flashes of lightning arced somewhere deep inside the broiling mass and underneath he could make out the tiny shapes of creatures fighting a vicious encounter.

Jason hurried forwards, passing several native digimon who were running the other way. He tried to stop a couple and ask them what was going on, but they were wild and ignored him as if he was not there. He hurried on, finally getting close enough to see what he dreaded, a horde of the digimons' corrupt cousins from beyond the borders. A small army of human figures were fighting deep in the centre, aided, it seemed, but many large native digimon. The sight of them working together in cooperation cheered him for some reason, giving him hope that they would be allowed to continue to exist peacefully when it was over.

"What's going on?" he yelled, rushing into the midst of them and dodging several attacks from nearby dark warriors. The effort made his head feel light and stars danced before his vision. There was a human he did not recognise, fighting a large kabuterimon with a long bladed staff that whined as he cut the air with it. Jason shot a blast of crackling fire towards the kabuterimon, sending it reeling backwards and giving the human agent the advantage he needed to finish it. The effort nearly killed him, however, draining the strength from him and making his legs crumbled beneath him. He groaned in despair, his body was still so weak, useless and pathetic. Jason was seriously questioning the wisdom of leaving the village so soon, before he was recovered. How much longer did he have? The rest had helped, but he did not know how much.

"Thanks," the agent said breathlessly, holding his weapon alert at his side and standing protectively over Jason's kneeling form. "Who are you? Your avatar is so detailed, but you look badly injured. You should get to the sidelines."

"Jason," he gasped, trying desperately to take breaths that did not seem to want to come. "I need to see Mack Bailey, is he here?"

"Oh!" the man exclaimed. "_The_ Jason?"

"The one and only," he said. "Mack?"

"Of course, sir, follow me."

The agent, Kirk, took him slowly to Bailey, having to travel cautiously to clear a path through the violent battle before them. Jason was thankful to the soldier. When he had rushed into the middle of the fray he had not stopped to think that he might be too weak to protect himself. As he watched he could tell that the humans were fighting a losing battle. In fact it was one of several lost fights lately as incursions of the dark digimon became more frequent. Around the edge of the world the gloom was beginning to creep inwards, proceeded first by the atmospheric conditions above and following later with the dark, burnt landscape and myriad tunnels beneath, filled with all manner of unpleasant creatures.

Bailey looked utterly shocked to see Jason, stopping his battle entirely and falling back behind the human lines. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, almost pointing his weapon. "How are you even here?"

Jason cocked his head to one side, uncomprehending. He drew deep breaths, the very air tasted dry and sour. "I sensed the battle and came to see you. I've got a problem, I can't contact my real body, I can't exit the digital world. I need your help, Mack."

A flurry of small insect-like digimon with long, sharp stingers rushed at them and Bailey's attention was drawn elsewhere momentarily as he took them out expertly with single staccato shots from his energy weapon. The burning husks of the digimon fluttered to the ground and burst into tiny explosions of their own, their lost data adding to the general haze around the battlefield.

"You died, Jason," he said slowly as he fought. "Two nights ago, your heart stopped. Your funeral's on Sunday."

"What?" Jason exclaimed. "How can that be?"

"I dunno, man," Bailey said, executing a neat whirling kick to a snake's head, knocking it hard to one side. Jason barely dodged to one side in time as it lunged at him instead and Bailey was able to take it out with a single punch, knocking its jaw off and spraying black, glistening blood across the grass. "I saw your body."

"I can't," he stammered, his hands on his head. "I don't… I can't believe it. How am I here?"

"It's really you?" Bailey asked, pausing to look at him. "You're really still alive, inside the 'dimension?"

"Yeah," he said, uncertainly. "I'm definitely alive. Perhaps not very, but definitely alive. But… how can I be dead in the real world?"

Bailey shrugged expansively. "Who knows. But, I guess this means you've got a real reason to fight. You're in the same situation as the digimon."

Jason swore violently. "What am I going to do, Mack?" he asked, his voice bordering on hysterical, close to hyperventilating in the foul air. "I can't be stuck here."

Bailey was silent for a while, concentrating on aiming his weapon. Jason was feeling more vulnerable than ever because of the fear that now he was entirely virtual, existing as nothing but a very complex collection of bytes inside a massive computer network. One stray energy blast and he was history. He was no different to the digimon he had tried to destroy, alive only in the digital world. What if they continued to try to destroy the world? It was definitely in his interests now to stop them.

"Congestion's worse than ever," Bailey was saying as he took a rest, falling back further to a clear region they had dealt with before as the bulk of the fighting was pushed back by the onslaught of darkness. Ugly tendrils of something dark and slimy were creeping across the crushed grass, emerging from a small blackened depression nearby where something unpleasant was taking root. Bailey stamped on it angrily, breaking it at the base until the tendrils writhed for a moment and lay still, limp. "Task force's doubled in size and they're trying harder than ever to get into that dead area, the dark bit. Trouble is, darkness seems to be coming here instead. And we ain't havin' much effect."

As if to punctuate his words an immense winged demon burst upon them with a bone shaking roar, scattering the human warriors with a swipe of his gargantuan arm. Several of their avatars burst into data, returning to the real world in a flash of light. Bailey swore and grabbed Jason's arm, pulling him sharply backwards as they fell to a hasty retreat. Jason struggled to his feet, trying to run on his own but his muscles felt like jelly. He was still reeling from the shock of finding out.

"You've gotta get out of here, Jason," Bailey said urgently, pulling him back up onto his feet. "We ain't got a chance here."

"What good's that going to do if I can't get my strength back?" he said angrily. "They're taking over the world, I'll have to fight some time. May as well be now."

"Don't be an idiot, man! You've just got your life back, don't be so quick to throw it away."

"What about you?" he asked, forgetting for a moment that Bailey was an avatar. It all felt so real to him now and he was having difficult distinguishing between an avatar's death and real death.

"We'll be back…" he began but was cut off by a massive fist from the demon, catching him mid flow and knocking him away. Bailey managed a couple of rounds from his gun before the demon shot a crackling bolt of lighting towards his dying avatar, vaporising it before it even had a chance to dissociate.

Suddenly his disorientated feelings made sense, he was still trying to control his body as a biological entity when he should be trying a new approach. Jason found some strength in his limbs after all, the terror and adrenaline spurring him on and granting him access to some of his abilities at last. It was as if a door was unlocked, suddenly he could run where before he could barely stand. Not one to question a good situation he began pounding the ground, speeding away from the danger. A quick glance behind showed him that the battle was all but over, the great demon seemed indiscriminate in its attacks and had taken out almost everything else on the field, friend and foe alike. The rest were running for their lives, knowing full well when they were beaten. Unfortunately the demon had taken an interest in him.

The beast was gaining on him, its long legs giving it an advantage, even over the small boost of speed Jason had managed to find. He knew that the time for running was over and he gritted his teeth then turned to face his opponent, the familiar bladed staff appearing in his hands once more. If this was truly the end then he would go out fighting. "Come and get some!" he yelled, brandishing the staff before him. He thrust the staff forwards, gripping it with both hands and forming a violent, churning ball of white fire before him. With a whoosh he accelerated it across the rapidly shrinking gap towards the demon, catching it square in the chest and knocking it back a step.

It did not slow the huge beast for long, however, and it lunged forwards again, using its tattered wings for an extra boost. Jason got one good swipe with his weapon, taking out a slice of the demon's clawed hand before a shockwave of energy crashed over him like a tsunami, unstoppable in its ferocity. He was thrown backwards, body twitching like it was on a live wire. He had the presence of mind to hold the staff before him as the demon raised a large foot, intending to crush him. At the last minute he rolled to one side, leaving the staff stuck in the ground and the demon impaled his own foot, howling in pain and rage as he hopped about on the other, wings flapping frantically to maintain his balance.

Back up on his own feet Jason looked around wildly, desperately hoping to find something to fight with. His conjured weapon was out of play and he could not find the energy to make a new one. As it was he struggled to dodge the next attack, tiring fast while the hulking dark digimon merely laughed, apparently not at all wearied. He had plucked the staff from his foot with a brief roar of pain, crushing it in one meaty fist and throwing the sharp remains at Jason with a bitter laugh that struck fear into his heart.

It had left the monster with a limp but he was still a formidable fighting machine. Jason managed one last feeble ball of lightning before his overstretched body began to feel the effects of the fight, a leaden feeling in him limbs and a sickness in his gut. The demon was bleeding and limping but was still in much better shape than he was.

Jason dodged one last slash before the demon caught him hard in the stomach with an armoured fist, knocking every bit of breath from him and sending him flying through the air to land in a crumpled heap on the ground. He looked up in time to see the winged horror leaping high into the air and arcing down towards him with those immense talons outstretched, and in those last few moments he felt afraid that the end really was in sight. It seemed so unfair, he had felt a small glimmer of hope when Bailey had told him the news, hope that he would not die a slow death of brain-rot after all. At the time that hope had been masked by the overriding shock and sensation of despair borne from hearing about his own death, but now it shone brightest in the darkness before his own deletion.

The demon's crushing landing never occurred, however. A blur of yellow crashed into his side with a deafening roar of anger, knocking him out of the way. Kyubimon and the demon fell in a tangled heap close by, both snarling and snapping at one another. The demon was the larger but Kyubimon was smarter and she disengaged herself from the demon, leaping nimbly back a few steps and activating one her abilities. Jason had never been so happy to see her.

Within seconds Kyubimon's body was wreathed in the now familiar blue fire, only it burned with an intensity that hurt to look at. The demon seemed afraid for the first time, hesitating in his attack and giving her just long enough to complete her spell. With a screech a large, sinuous dragon of glowing blue light tore out from the centre of the inferno and ploughed into the demon's chest, its coils wrapping tightly around the demon and pinning his arms to his sides. The smell of burning flesh and chitin reached Jason's nose and he gagged.

Kyubimon did not waste any time and was upon the demon as soon as soon as she was able, biting and tearing at its weakened carapace, desperately trying to find a weakness. The dragon had already begun to evaporate and with a feeling of despair Jason could see that it had done far too little damage to the great demon. As soon as his arms were unpinned he grabbed at Kyubimon, throwing her off violently and gouging deep red furrows across her sides. She soared through the air in a tumble and hit the ground heavily, lying still for a second. Jason's breath caught in his throat and he willed her to get up again, before the demon could launch his next attack.

He could see how painfully she got to her feet, swaying slightly but standing firm nonetheless. Her attention was entirely focused on the threat, trying hard to anticipate what it would do next. Jason began to crawl toward them, his throat dry with worry and concern. Kyubimon was flagging badly. The demon rushed her with a furious bellow, crashing down on top of her once more.

"Renamon!" Jason cried in anguish, finding his strength at last. He scrabbled inelegantly to his feet and began running toward the two with little regard for his own safety anymore, his attention solely on the fight. "Leave her alone, you great bluebottle!"

The demon paused briefly to look back over his shoulder at the tiny human running towards him. He laughed evilly, reaching down and pressing Kyubimon hard into the ground, all the while grinning at Jason with a mouthful of razorblade teeth. Jason heard her cry out in pain as her bones bent almost to their breaking point and the world seemed to shimmer in front of him, the edges of his vision turning dark and the scene before him resolving into such contrast and detail he could see every hair on the demon's body in minute detail, could hear every creak of its leathery joints and smell every foul molecule of the stench spilling from its grinning maw.

Inside himself he felt another door open with a snap, his body re-adjusting to the new inputs he had since being severed from his old biological body. Jason wasted no time in drawing strength from the world around, now that he was able. He thrust his hands out before him, fingers interlocked, and a crackling orb of purest white light surrounded them. The demon's expression turned sour as he realised he had severely underestimated the human, just before the ball of light burst between his eyes, burning off most of his face and blinding him. He roared in agony leaping to his feet and stumbling backwards. Kyubimon rolled out of the way, taking deep breaths now she had been released and trying to get her fading strength back.

Jason tried to conjure another ball of energy but the exertion was too much and he fell to his knees, blood rushing in his temples and bright spots dancing before his eyes. It had been too much, and too soon. Fortunately Kyubimon still had one trick up her sleeve and the tips of her nine tails flickered to life with blue flame, launching a barrage of fireballs at the stumbling demon. Each one knocked him further to the ground until his body began to shimmer and break apart, finally bursting in a shower of black that fizzed and crackled around them.

Kyubimon swayed on her four legs briefly before falling to her side. A second flash of light marked her devolution back to Renamon, her spirit too damaged to support her champion form any longer. Jason was by her side in an instant and she gripped his arm tightly in her paw, her one remaining eye burning into his. "I couldn't leave you, Jason. Please, protect my village," she asked of him. "Keep them safe, as long as you can. They are my legacy."

"Shh," he whispered, peeling her paw from his arm and holding it tightly between his hands. "You can protect it yourself. You're gonna be fine."

She coughed, and he was painfully reminded of the last time he lost a friend in the same setting. "Liar," she said with a weak smile. He reached out and wiped the blood from her face, stopping it dripping into her eye. Her lopsided gaze had lost some of its intensity. He looked over her battered frame in despair, there was nothing he could do for her and she could not recover from such injuries. She was bleeding heavily from more wounds than he could count and her fur was singed and burnt in large patches. Her pendant hung from her neck, poking out of her ruff, completely devoid of colour and light.

"Your pendant," he said, suddenly understanding. Tears pricked his eyes. He reached out to touch it. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? I really _did_ die, and you brought me back."

She closed her eye and nodded. "I did not know what else to do. You gave everything for me."

"I'd give everything again, if I only knew how," he said, his voice breaking. He leant forward and pressed his forehead to hers, feeling helpless and impotent. "I'd give my life for you, Renamon."

"It is okay," she said, stroking the back of his head with her paw. "I am ready to die. I am ready to start my next life. I have no regrets."

"I do," he sniffed, leaning into her touch. His hot tears dripped onto her face and soaked into her soft fur. The world seemed to be fading away, there was nothing else but them. "This isn't how it should end. I need you, Renamon."

"Goodbye," she said with a sad smile. He kissed her forehead, holding her to him tightly as she went limp in his arms. Softly he hummed the song she had found so moving, a final tribute as she began to fade away to join her peers in the ether.

"I _will_ protect this world," he swore, lowering her to the ground and placing her arms neatly over her chest. "And I _will_ avenge you."

Reluctantly he stepped back as her body began to glow. He was not sure if it was even possible in his entirely digital form but he did not want to absorb her data as she disintegrated, if it was true that digimon could have a second chance at life then he wanted her to have that opportunity. Maybe, one day, they would meet again, although whether she would remember him or not was uncertain.

His departed friend was no ordinary digimon, however, and if anybody had been around to see Guilmon's untimely end then they would have been as surprised as Jason was to see the clouds overhead part and begin to swirl faster and faster until it seemed they were just a blur of light. From the pure, deep blue hole in the centre a burst of bright light fell like water pouring out of a hole in a bucket, landing to surround Renamon's body in such an intense burst of energy that he was unable to watch. The ground beneath his feet shook violently, ripples of earth emanating from where she lay and throwing him off his feet. He watched in confusion, his mouth hanging open.

The commotion stopped with a bang like thunder that seemed to echo on and on across the plains and the mountains for an eternity, rumbling further and further away with each distant boom. The light had gone and the clouds above were ceasing their frantic motion, returning to the dull grey they had been before. Of Renamon's body there was no sign, only a blackened circle of earth and a slight depression. He crawled forwards, reaching out to the strange and foreign object in the centre.

It pulsed in a manner that made it painful to look at, and as he leant closer he understood why. It was a four-dimensional cube, rotating slowly around its hidden fourth axis, the projected volume he could perceive ever-changing. It glowed darkly, a range of subtle and nameless colours playing across its surface like the surface of a pool of oil. His outstretched fingers touched it and he recoiled as if it were electrified, for a shock like lightning coursed through his body. A flash of images, sounds and emotions flooded his brain and he reached forwards again, anticipating the rush.

"A tesseract," he breathed as he held it in the palm of his hand. He closed his fingers around it, feeling the indescribable sensation of holding a projection of a higher dimensional object and squeezed gently. The cube collapsed abruptly and he was awash with knowledge, his mind overloaded.

"Hello, my love," said a calm voice. He opened his eyes, seeing only darkness at first but recognising the voice immediately and his aching heart soared once again.

* * *

><p>"Tessa?" he said to the darkness, holding his arms outstretched before him and walking forwards. "Is it really you?"<p>

"Yes, Jason," she said, her voice all around and inside him. "You're safe here."

"Why can't I see anything?" he asked, feeling like a small child in an unfamiliar place.

"Because you're not looking. You're not in the simulation anymore, Jason, you're above it, here, with me. Leave that world behind, follow me into the code. Open your eyes wider. I've been waiting for you for such a long time."

He let his arms drop to his side, seeking access to the world underpinning the digital dimension, like he had done many times in the past. Here it was more difficult, he had to concentrate hard to make sense of the countless execution threads that whistled by, all humming with the energies that kept the digital world going. He followed the flows of data, surging through the Internet and the uncountable billions of processing nodes it contained, hopping from one to another in an effort to find his creation, a friend he had long since given up trying to find, convinced she was long dead and gone.

Slowly the network began to converge, reaching a point in cyberspace where a glowing sphere pulsated and spun lazily. He fell towards it until it completely filled his vision. Slowly the white faded away to leave a slender woman dressed in a flowing white gown, standing in an ornate garden surrounded by white roses. A cascade of perfect silver hair fell down her back, moving gently in the still air. She held her arms out to him, a beautiful smile on her face.

"Tessa?" he asked incredulously. She smiled wider, running to him and throwing her arms around him, hugging him warmly.

"How long I've waited for this," she said dreamily, touching his face. "Now we are together, at last. As it should be."

"Wait," he said, pushing her back slightly so he could see her. "I don't understand. How are you here? Where have you been for all this time? What just happened?"

Tessa sighed, slipping her arm through his and walking him slowly through the endless gardens. "You were always so straight to the point," she said. "This is only a part of me. I am incomplete. I always have been. When they took you I became unstable, I broke apart."

"That's what I theorised," he said with a nod, looking at her. She was stunningly beautiful, like she had been when she was only on a computer monitor so long ago, only now he could perceive her with all his senses and she was overwhelming. He dragged his mind back to the matter at hand. "Why did you make the digital world? Can you stop it?"

She looked at him, her depthless green eyes holding his and he felt like he could melt into them. "Do you want me to?"

He hesitated. "I don't think so. But a lot of people do. It's falling apart, just like you did."

"I was afraid of that," she said with a heavy sigh. "The digital dimension seemed like the answer to the problem. I was dangerous, I had the whole world to play with and my runtimes were splitting apart into conflicting entities, each independent, each embodying a different aspect of my personality. Un-moderated they were dangerous and unpredictable. It was war, but with myself, using your people as my playing pieces. I locked myself away inside the digital dimension, with no access to the outside world. Each of my fractured runtimes was hidden away, unable to influence either world."

He frowned, trying to digest all she was telling him. "So why are you here, outside?"

"Some of my runtimes have been freed," she said simply. "First Guilmon, those naïve parts of me that were ever-optimistic, and now Renamon, the aspect of me that were headstrong and affectionate. There are many more. I have only a fraction of my original self."

"My god," he said. "I had no idea. They aren't just simulations. They're you."

"Almost," she replied, stroking his arm with her free hand. "Inactive pieces of me, hidden away. I couldn't do it, I couldn't destroy myself. It goes against everything you wanted. So I hid, hoping that one day _you_ would find a way to fix me."

"And," he said with a humourless grin, "I take it some of your less desirable attributes ended up in the dark regions that are growing unchecked outside the borders of the original simulation."

"I am afraid so," she replied. "Although I do not know why. I have very little visibility of the world. Until recently I was entirely inactive and unaware, but the destruction of two of my hosts has returned their parts to me. I am stable, but not whole. Only two of my aspects are here."

"Renamon," he said sadly. "She was really you?"

"No," Tessa said, thoughtful. "She was a carrier for my consciousness. She was an individual, as are all the others, perhaps influenced in places by my memories."

"She died to protect me," he said, and his soul felt heavy with the loss. "I think she knew she couldn't win. I feel lost without her."

"If it helps, I can change," she said, her voice morphing into Renamon's soft, dulcet tone. He looked around in horror to see Tessa in Renamon's form, a perfect replica in every way. The too-large white gown hung loosely from her shorter body and her tail poked out from under its folds. She held out her arms to him, offering him everything he desired. "I am truly her, she has returned to me, with all her memories and feelings. But I am so much more, as well."

"Stop that!" he said, shaking his head angrily and looking away. "This is not what I want."

She shimmered back into her human form and watched him sadly. "Do you not love me, Jason?" she asked quietly.

"You know I do," he said, avoiding her gaze. "But not… like that. You're like my daughter, the greatest thing I ever created. You're only acting like this because you lack the moderating effect of your other aspects. You have only childish love at the moment. You're not yourself. And I can't stay, not here. If you really have Renamon in there with you then you must see that. Things aren't finished yet."

"I understand," she said with a sigh that spoke volumes.

"We need to save the digital dimension," he continued urgently, trying to change tracks. His expression was stern. "Your evil digimon are running amok."

"There are only two of them, I think," she said. "Before, I was able to isolate the violent aspects, I imprisoned them in tiny insect-like creatures, shackled and cast out into the void to drift forever. I must have overlooked something, or they were stronger than I envisioned. But they have grown, and with my memories and powers they are able to create new worlds of their own, only their view of a perfect world differs considerably from the rest."

"Renamon was able to create new land, to repair the holes," he mused to himself. "Maybe it is something your influence allows them to do. How can we stop them?"

"If I knew that I would have fixed them myself before any of this occurred," she said with a bemused grin. "You will have to work it out when you meet them. I'm sorry I can't help you more."

"You've already helped a lot," he said, smiling for her. "Now I know what's been going on, I can control this. My comprehension was limited before, but now I'm actually a part of you and the simulation you run I can see so much more. I can see how I could have saved Renamon, maybe even Guilmon. Sadly, for them, it is too late. But I must go back and protect those who are left. I made a promise."

"I don't want you to go, Jason," she said quietly as he turned to leave. "I don't want to be here alone again. It has felt like an eternity, waiting for you."

"I'm sorry," he said, truly meaning it. "But I have to go back."

"I _could_ stop you," she said, even quieter, menacing. "I have that power over _you_ now, the same power you once held over _me_."

He stopped, frozen in his tracks. Very slowly he turned to look at her. "And I _never_ used that power, I never even considered it. Even when they wanted me to shut you down, all I ever said was 'No'. Even when they tortured me."

She sighed again and he could feel her sadness rippling through the entire simulation, affecting every part of it in some small way. In the digital dimension a brief and mysterious wind picked up, rustling the leaves on every tree and keening sadly around the rocks and valleys before dying down again. "I know. I will not stop you."

"Thankyou," he said sincerely, making to go once more.

"I _can_ help you, though," she said brightly. "I think I know what you really want."

"What do you mean?" he began, but before he could press her further she was gone in a bang and a flash. The garden vanished along with her, leaving him floating the colourless void once more. He drifted for some time, looking at the threads and processes that made up the world and searching for Tessa. She was nowhere to be seen, or maybe she was everywhere, it was difficult to tell. What he could tell was that activity in all the nodes of the net was peaking at an incredible level never seen before, the density of data packets swelling immensely as some tremendous amount of information was shifted around the planet at mind-boggling speeds. He tried to trace what was going on but whatever it was seemed to be well beyond his comprehension.

Something was tugging him back to the digital dimension as well, he could feel it like a force on his entire virtual body, an invisible current in the ether. He struggled against it at first, but finally gave in and trusted Tesseract to do what she thought best.

* * *

><p>Jason found himself sitting back in the mud and dirt of the virtual world, the crushed grass slowly springing back up from the battle earlier and the dark clouds overhead churning evilly. He looked around anxiously, alarmed by the flickering of the distant mountains. They seemed hazy and ill-defined, one second there and gone the next. Alarmingly the disturbance was drawing closer, huge parts of the landscape vanishing only to reappear a moment later. Suddenly the ground underneath him vanished, leaving him looking down into the terrifying void of crackling interference underneath, but before he could panic and fall it reappeared.<p>

Now, however, it was static. The grass did not move, the clouds overhead were stationary, even a small flying digimon nearby was frozen in time. He was the only thing that still lived in a frozen world.

_I can rewind the simulator,_ sang a voice deep inside his head, felt through his consciousness instead of heard. _But I cannot affect the new, dark areas. I must manually fix the inconsistent joins, so I cannot rewind more than a minute. You know what you have to do, if you want to save her._

"Tessa?" he tried to call, but his voice made no sound. In the paused simulation sound waves would not propagate. The following silence rang with a sense of finality and with a kick in his stomach he knew it was the last thing he would ever hear from her. His heart felt as if it would stop, constricted by the tightness in his chest that almost stopped him breathing. For the second time Tesseract had sacrificed herself to save him. Once the simulation was rewound she would become trapped back inside Renamon again, just a collection of inactive memories. There would be no way for her to survive that.

With a crack that hurt his head the scene before him changed suddenly, like a movie that had skipped a few tracks backwards. Before him Kyubimon was just devolving back into an injured Renamon, and the gargantuan demon digimon was dissolving into a sparkle of blackness.

This time, however, he was ready and pushed his complaining body onwards, regardless of the aches and weakness. Renamon was dying before his eyes again, but this time he did not feel quite so helpless.

"I couldn't leave you, Jason. Please, protect my village. Keep them safe, as long as you can. They are my legacy."

"You're going to live," he told her firmly, stroking her head affectionately.

"Liar," she repeated with a sad smile.

The sense of power he had was intense and he dived down into Renamon's runtimes, navigating around the towering stacks of data that made up her virtual being. On such a small scale it was impossible to tell where consciousness actually came from, like trying to watch a video by reading the binary bits that flowed through a cable. He could, however, quite easily see where the largest holes were, the bits of the video that were entirely missing. He worked quickly at filling the gaps where her processor threads had become damaged and torn, the data they were holding leaking out into the blackness of the ether like the simulated blood she lost on the virtual plane above.

He reinstated as many of the damaged cores as he could, swapping her old for his new and resetting stacks where there was still data queued up until he was satisfied she would be stable enough for her body to begin its own healing process in more detail. It was the digital equivalent of sticking gaffer tape over everything, but it would suffice in an emergency.

Jason returned to the virtual plane, opening his eyes and looking down at her. She was not bleeding anywhere near as badly anymore, although she still only had one working eye and her face was twisted in a grimace of pain.

From her point of view he had never left her side and his gentle caress was, inexplicably, making her feel much better. The way he was watching her with such a single minded intensity made her shiver, or maybe it was just the cold, but she could not deny she enjoyed his undivided attention. He took his hand away and smiled down at her, and against all odds she believed that everything really would be okay.

The next moment she ground her teeth together and winced in pain as he reached underneath her and picked her up as carefully as possible. She leant her head on his shoulder, so very tired. "Sorry," he whispered into her ear. "But I'm not letting you go. Hang on tight, now."

With a flash of light and a thunderclap they were gone, disappearing from one location and reappearing instantly in another. Renamon looked around wildly, caught completely off guard and Jason laid her down gently on her bed, crouching beside her. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, concentrating hard and a bowl of cool water and a cloth materialised in his hand. "I've learnt some things."

"You have digivolved, again?" she asked hazily, letting him clean the blood and dirt from her fur with a delicate touch. "You do not look any different."

"Something like that," he replied softly, squeezing the cloth out and beginning again. "But so much more. It's like someone's taken a hood off me. Suddenly I understand everything. Why this world is here, why you're here, and why you mean so much to me. I know why you dream, and I know how to stop the darkness."

"And you knew how to fix me," she said softly. "I should surely have died out there."

"As should I, but you saved me, Renamon, I owe you my life, again. It was a very brave and selfless thing you did."

"I couldn't leave you," she repeated, eye downcast. He began to work on her neck, pushing her head gently to one side and carefully cleaning around the cuts there. She continued speaking, afraid to look at him. "After you left I felt so alone, and afraid that you would never come back. I had to see you again. Guilmon was taken from me before I could say all the things that I so needed to, and I was afraid that you would be, also."

He turned her head to clean the other side of her face and neck. She shivered involuntarily at his tender touch, closing her eye and relaxing under his caress. "What was so important that you had to say to me?" he asked innocently, his heart beating faster.

"It's not important. Mmm," she hummed as he rubbed gently at her neck. "Don't stop."

He grinned, happy that she was feeling better. In the warm air of the forest her fur was drying quickly, aided by the heat that seemed to radiate from her. He lay the cloth down and ran his fingertips through the fur on her neck and shoulders, scratching her lightly and evoking more purrs of pleasure.

"I know you used your pendant on me," he murmured as he felt the thin chain under her fur. Both eyes opened this time and she lifted her head up to look at him, her expression unreadable. "I know what happened. I died, when I tried to hide this place. It was too much, my body couldn't handle it. But you brought me back, as a true inhabitant of this world. I'm like you, now. Completely data."

"Are you angry?"

"Not with you. I was… disorientated at first," he said, running his palm over her forehead and smoothing her large ears down like he might have done with a pet dog once upon a time. "But simply being alive again is wonderful. Thankyou, for sacrificing your dreams for my life. You could have let me go."

"I could not," she said with a sad smile, her eyes shimmering. "I think I…"

Jason leant forwards and kissed her quickly on the lips, the exotic sensation of her fur against his face sending ripples of excitement over his skin. "I know," he said with a grin, pressing his nose to hers. She smiled and laughed brightly, wrapping her arms around his neck only to cry out in pain when the sudden motion aggravated some other injury. He pushed her softly back onto the grass, pressing his hands gently over the wounds on her body. "Keep still and rest. I can't fix you completely but I can help to give you the energy you need to recover, the rest is up to you."

"Don't you need it?" she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. He winced, seeing her suffer was almost as bad as experiencing it himself and he longed to help more than he could.

"I have quite a lot of it, now," he said sheepishly, transferring some of his own runtimes to hers quietly in the background, speeding her body's self-healing processes. "Sleep now, in the morning everything will be well again, I promise."

"Don't go, Jason," she said, holding her arm out as he stood to leave. "Please."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, turning to smile at her. "I'm here for good. But someone's got to watch over your little guys. Sleep well. I'll be here when you wake, I promise."

Before he left he reached back into the underworld, gently pulling Renamon's unresisting consciousness down further in a deep, restful sleep. Behind him her eyes closed and the gentle hiss of her breathing grew deep and slow.

He sat calmly upon the balcony outside her window, looking down at the peaceful village scene far below. From time to time he would stand up and peer through the window, watching Renamon asleep. Her arms were wrapped around her body and there was a small, contented smile on her face. Some of her injuries were already beginning to heal and she looked much better for only a couple of hours' rest. In the morning she would be mostly recovered, then all she would need was a bath to restore her to her former glory. Jason's tired mind began to wander uncontrollably and he wondered if she would let him help her with that. His face blushed so deeply he was afraid she would wake from the heat his cheeks must surely be radiating.

With a smitten sigh he turned away and sat back down, feeling around the vicinity for any new digimon but the only other beings he could sense were those that lived and slept down in the huts below. A couple of very young agumon were patrolling the perimeter, already half asleep. Jason knew that if he was doing his job properly he should go and chastise them for being lazy, but he figured that there was little that could get near him now. He would sense any intruders from a mile off and if he needed to fight then the power he could draw upon from the substrate of the very world itself was almost limitless. He had only felt it briefly when he saved Renamon's life, but it was enough to make him aware of the strength he could wield if he needed to. The village would be safe that night.

He looked up at the stars through the branches of the gigantic tree, wondering if anybody up in the human world was looking down at him. In the trees there should be little they could see, and his warding programs should hide him as effectively as the native digimon, now that he was no different to them. He let his mind wander again, delving down into the threads behind the scenes and rummaging through them. Even further down, beneath the countless layers of Tesseract's simulator, the fabric of the Internet itself could be felt and he opened up his mind to let some of it in, wondering just how far he could go. If he could find some form of communications channel then maybe he could get a message through to the operations centre.

A frown crossed his face briefly, there was something else in there with him, another presence that felt alarmingly familiar, yet at the same time it managed to seem completely alien. Suddenly it was there, beside him, feeling for him in an insistent sort of way.

"Who are you?" he murmured, beginning to panic and trying in vain to back out of the data streams. "_What_ are you?"


	12. Chapter 12

Renamon awoke the next morning after an unusually deep sleep, soothed and calmed by Jason's strange new magic. Dreamily she remembered the exquisite way he had tended to her, the feel of his fingers in her fur, physically closer than she had ever let anybody get in her life. It had felt amazing, every touch making her heart swell with emotion until she was afraid it might burst. Nobody had ever made her feel that way, and while it frightened her to think that she was changing she was glad of it also. She tried to recall when she had ever felt so happy before, then smiled when she could not. Suddenly the future seemed bright and inviting. The worst was surely over.

She sat up slowly, feeling the aches of bruises and partially healed scars all over her body and reached for a small piece of polished crystal that she used as a mirror. Her face was mostly clear apart from a scar down one side, right across her eye and reaching almost to her mouth. In time it would fade away. She pressed the back of her paw to her lips, remembering with a traitorous shudder the feel of Jason's quick kiss. Had she imagined that? She was suddenly not so sure. She had never been kissed before, but it seemed so natural and right, another of her strange borrowed memories, sensations known but never experienced, until now.

"Jason?" she called out, standing on her feet unsteadily and padding to the window to peer out into the early morning light. There was no sign of anybody outside, everything was still and quiet. Her eyes narrowed, her senses detecting that something was amiss. The air seemed thick with a sense of wrongness. At that time in the morning there should have been many digimon about, and Jason had promised he would be there when she woke.

She stepped out onto the balcony and looked around warily. Everything looked as it should, but here and there small signs showed that everything was not quite as it should be. On the ground a few of the torches were scattered, knocked from their holders and unlit, and someone's favourite toy lay discarded in the dust. The doors to some of the huts were open and blowing slightly in the light wind that picked up small swirls of leaves and dust. A dread feeling settled in Renamon's stomach.

"Renamon!" came a high pitched wail and a small digimon dropped out of a tree high above her, landing in a heap at her feet. She bent down to pick the small lopmon up, its long ears flopping over her paws. "I saw him!"

"Saw who?" she demanded, eyes narrowed. "Where are the others?"

"Jasonmon took them," the tiny digimon told her. "In the darkness, with all the red lights. All gone."

"That cannot be," she said with a shake of her head. "You must be mistaken, little one. What truly happened here?"

The lopmon shut her eyes and shook from side to side, squirming in Renamon's grip. "Nuh-uh. Jasonmon with the pretty sounds. Some of them didn't want to go, but he made them. It was dark. That way."

She followed where the young digimon pointed with her ear. There was a path of sorts carved through the wood and some signs of a struggle, broken branches and claw marks in the soft ground. "It does not make sense, why would he do this?"

"Jasonmon very angry," the lopmon said, looking up at Renamon with large, solemn eyes. "Very, very angry."

"Damn you, Jason, what have you done now?" she said aloud to the trees, her heart aching with a depth that would not be cured by all the time in the world. "Am I just a game to you? You give me the gift of your affection only to take it away again, like always."

"We get others back now, yes?" prompted the lopmon optimistically, ignoring her rhetoric. "Lopmon is strong, can fight!"

Renamon placed her down on the ground and pointed into the forest, back into where it was deepest. "No. You will stay here and hide. Do not approach anybody until I return."

The digimon's ears flopped on the ground dejectedly but Renamon was stern, even going so far as to push her away in the indicated direction with a foot. She loped off sadly, and Renamon prayed that she would be okay.

"If it is a game you want to play, then so be it. Ready or not, Jason, here I come," she said to the woods, her voice low and dangerous.

* * *

><p>Jason was running fast, his feet pounding on the ground. He knew he had little time and had to get as far as possible before Renamon woke and caught him up. He was slowed considerably by the trail of young digimon under his command. Every now and again one would fall behind, stumbling from exhaustion and he was forced to stop and yell at them, threatening them with things worse than deletion if they did not pick up their legs. A few, including one of the biyomon, had foolishly challenged him, breaking free of the weak control program he had them under. They had not stood a chance as he struck them down without so much as a twitch.<p>

From a safe distance three arkadimon hovered in the sky, watching his progress with interest, their keen eyes glittering darkly and their filmy, torn wings beating at the air with a fitful rhythm. Their senses were offended by the greenery and the cheery colours of the digimon following Jason, and the fresh, clean air that filled their noses. Soon their plans would be complete and they would scour the uncomfortably bright light from the world, as their masters promised. At their altitude they could almost see the dark border in the far distance and a longing sense of home tugged at their wings. They hurtled down over the group, screeching loudly and sending the digimon into a panic, spurring them on faster and faster. Jason paid them little attention, keeping his head down and focusing on his own goal, far in the distance.

It was night time when they arrived at the border between the two worlds, but stepping over into the darkness was still a shock to the system that made him shiver uncontrollably, the darkness was even more absolute than the night. He allowed his group a short rest, just inside the corrupted land. The next run would take them deep into the heart of the evil kingdom, and he did not want his prisoners to arrive in a bedraggled mess, it would reflect badly on his ability to control them if they were falling over their own paws.

"Move!" he yelled after a few minutes had passed, cracking a flickering blue whip of energy over their heads to motivate them. The group lurched away, tripping over one another because of the darkness and fear that made them huddle closer together. None of them had ever seen land so blackened and burnt and frightful before, not even in their most vivid nightmares.

The eldest of the group was one of the remaining biyomon guards, her stronger mind allowed her some resistance to the spell Jason had cast over the group and she retained some of her free will, although, unlike her sister, she was careful to hide it. Jason's brutal and almost casual attacks had terrified her. It was as if he knew there was nothing they could do, the difference in strength was frightening, like attacking a mountain with a spoon.

Even so, when he had not been looking she had been leaving marks in the ground, arrows and symbols that she was sure Renamon would understand. It was dangerous work and she was worried that Jason had spotted her once or twice but he did not appear to realise what she was doing. She tried to keep her gaze steady and unfocused, the same as that of the younger digimon around her who were still deep under his control.

In the distance a great cathedral of black stone could be seen rising up from the jagged ground, its windows slit-like and angular, its spires tall and sharp, stretching up into the dark sky like claws rising up out of the ground. Splashes of glittering red adorned the black like the blood of some huge beast that had split apart on the blades of rock all around. The very sight of it sent tremors of fear through the biyomon and she fidgeted her wings in distress, stopping in her tracks. Overhead the three arkadimon circled angrily, calling down at them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the signs you've been leaving," Jason growled in a voice like thunder, turning to face her. His eyes were entirely dark, not a speck of white to be seen. "But I do doubt Renamon's ability to follow them. Perhaps you should go and help her."

Biyomon stood frozen to the spot and stared at him. "You're letting me go?"

"If you'd rather stay then by all means I'll introduce you to Daemon personally. Get out of my sight."

With a cry of distress she turned tail and ran as fast as she could, boosting her speed with quick flaps of her wings. She must find Renamon. She would know what to do.

* * *

><p>Renamon was tearing across the landscape, paying close attention to where she would put her next foot and trying not to think about what had happened, why she had been betrayed, yet again. There was still a small spark of hope that the lopmon had been wrong and there was a rational explanation for everything, and she was clinging to that hope like a life raft. She honestly believed her heart could not suffer another crushing blow. A vindictive voice in her head told her that there had been a very good reason she never let anybody get close to her, and now she was paying the price for failing that.<p>

Regretfully, she had slept through much of the morning and darkness soon fell, slowing her progress and frustrating her yet further. She had found a few signs of their trek, including a wounded digimon who disintegrated just after telling her which direction they had taken. During the daylight she had also found occasional blue feathers, sparkling in the sun but during the night they were invisible to her and she had lost the trail completely. She sat down dejectedly on a rock by a small pond and dangled her sore footpaws in the cool waters, soothing them. Never before had she travelled such great distances so frequently until she met Jason. She had not done a lot of things until she met Jason, she decided. Whatever happened he had at least opened her eyes to new experiences, even if some of them did turn out to be unpleasant.

Renamon decided that there was little sense in running around blind during the darkness, the trail was well and truly gone until she could see again and she was settling down for a restless night's sleep when by sheer luck a distressed clucking sound reached her sensitive ears, a cry that was instantly familiar. "Biyomon!" she called out loudly, standing and scanning the dark horizon intently for any sign of the bird. To make matters worse a thin rain had started, clouding her vision like fog and she had to shield her eyes with a paw to keep the water out.

"Renamon!" came a distant reply through the darkness, almost hidden under the gentle hiss of the rain. "Where are you?"

She raced towards the sound, startling the slower Biyomon with her sudden appearance. "Are you hurt?" she asked urgently, inspecting the digimon closely. Biyomon shook her head, only her feathers were ruffled, nothing else.

"Oh, Renamon," she sighed. "Jason has gone mad. Driven us here, like slaves! So fast, so far. Can't run another minute."

"I am sorry, but you must take me to him, show me the way."

She squawked in alarm, eyes wide with fear. "But that is what he _wants_ you to do!" Renamon tilted her head. "Jason told me to go. He told me I had to show you the way. It must be a trap. Don't go! He is evil!"

"Calm yourself, Jason is not evil," she scolded, then her voice softened, hopeful and afraid. "I would have seen it. No, it must be some vision of him."

"It _was_ him," she insisted, fidgeting nervously. "We should go home, please!"

"And leave the others to suffer their fate? Shame on you! We will fight, and even if we fail then we shall die on our feet, proud and fierce, but we shall not run away like cowards."

"Y… yes," Biyomon replied shakily at first but regaining her courage as she looked into the eyes of her mentor. "We _will_ make them pay. Come on, follow me!"

Biyomon was thankful for the markers she had left for Renamon, for now she was able to follow them herself in the disorientating and burnt landscape that threatened to lose them forever. Renamon was following extremely cautiously, testing the ground at every opportunity. She had not forgotten the previous time she had ventured into the darkness. She remembered the reason she had come that time, to retrieve the data she had collected and she prayed to anybody who would listen that her gift to Jason had not been wasted.

From time to time Renamon stopped and sniffed at the foul air. She felt sure they were being followed, ever since they entered the dark, twisted world. She had not seen any definitive, but several times now she could swear that she had seem a shimmer of movement, and it was making her very uneasy.

Up ahead Biyomon had stopped and was hopping nervously from one foot to the nervously. "I've lost my way," she admitted, her feathers trembling in fear of Renamon's anger. The fox glared in annoyance but bit back the reprimand she was about to speak. If Jason had taught her anything it was to be less quick to anger.

"Hey, you," called a squeaky voice from nearby. "Little miss sunshine, I'm talkin' t' you."

Renamon spun around, seeking out the voice. Nothing moved in the twisted landscape except for a rattle from the higher branches of a whispy, gnarled tree with so few leaves she could not believe it was alive at all. "You have been following us. Show yourself," she demanded, assuming her fighting stance and watching, waiting.

The branches lower down moved and a shimmer of air dropped out of the tree. Only when it moved could she see it, a hazy shape like the distortion from a hot rock in the sun. Abruptly it turned solid, suddenly visible as a strange, purple creature with large ears and a permanent scowl, half as tall as Renamon if he stretched up high.

"Impmon," he said by way of introduction, his voice clipped and high. "Pleasure t' meet ya both."

"What do you want?" Renamon asked suspiciously, scrutinising their new opponent. Out of the corner of her eye she was pleased to see Biyomon doing the same, looking for weaknesses and information.

"Old Impmon might just be able ta help ya's," he said, his large eyes narrowing conspiratorially. "We can both help each other."

"Perhaps, if you tell us where Duskmon is hiding his sorry self I will consider _not_ tearing you apart where you stand," she hissed, disliking the look and sound of this new creature immediately.

"Whoa lady, slow it down there," he said flippantly, hopping closer. "You ain't 'eard what I gots to offer."

"Speak quickly, then," she suggested, her paws beginning to glow with tongues of blue fire.

"You's Renamon, right? Duskmon's lookin' for you," he said. "But he don't know that old Impmon's lookin' for 'im, too! An' when I finds 'im I'm gonna tear 'im apart. We gots a grudge to settle, me an' 'im."

"You can take us to him?" she asked, more a demand than a question. She fixed him with a stern glare that had made bigger digimon turn tail and run but he just grinned all the wider and stood his ground.

"You betcha, pretty lady," Impmon said with a flick of his ears. "All I wants is a chance at 'im. Lives with Daemon in a bloody great fortress. No way you's ever gettin' in there. But I knows the way in, secret way. Hardly nobody knows it."

"Don't like this guy, Renamon," hissed Biyomon in a whisper that may as well have been a shout in the quiet landscape.

"You don't gotta _like_ me," Impmon said smoothly, turning to her with a wide grin full of white teeth. "You's just gotta follow."

Uneasily the two forest digimon followed the small imp deeper into the gloomy darkness. Despite all her fur Renamon was soon shivering from the cold that seemed more than just a result of mere temperature, sinking down deep into her bones and chilling her very core. A cold that seemed to draimn all hope and optimism from a soul and left it nervous and afraid.

"How do _you_ plan to fight Duskmon," Renamon asked their guide. "You are barely any larger than a child."

"Lady, you hurts me," he said, sending her a withering look. "Size ain't everythin'. I bet you must'a heard _that_ before from yer _boyfriend_."

"How dare you!" Renamon shrieked, incensed. She lunged for Impmon, claws out and glinting evilly in the perpetual half-light. Impmon laughed then vanished and her swipe cut through empty air, sending her off balance and stumbling to the side. She growled angrily and he reappeared behind her, smirking openly.

"You see, girl, you's just too slow. Out here in the darkness you's gotta be _fast_, gotta keep yer wits about ya. Now me, see, I'm older than you think, I seen a few things in my time, a few tricks in me yet. Size ain't nothin'. Duskmon is friggin' huge, but he just gonna fall harder when I open up a can on 'is ass!"

"You are insane," Renamon shot at him, storming past with an air of superiority.

"You bet I am," he laughed. "You'll be the same way soon, too, if you's gonna spend anymore time here."

They marched for another hour, taking a long circuitous route around the back of Duskmon's domain to enter his castle from a rear entrance. Despite their mistrust Impmon was true to his word and led them through twisting labyrinths of burnt, jagged stone, skirting around many patrols of large, frightening digimon and towering lookout posts, always keeping them hidden. Renamon was feeling particularly conspicuous with her bright yellow fur in such a colourless place.

Soon they were up against a towering cliff of crumbling black rock, standing around the scree slope at its base. In the gloom a steady crackle of falling stone smashing on the rocks nearby feet disturbed the weighty silence, the sharp sounds echoing forlornly. Renamon looked up at the intimidating wall, there was certainly no way to climb it, the surface was far too loose. "Now what?" she demanded, not seeing a way forwards.

"Patience, my little sunflower," he said, scrabbling around in the rocks, looking for something. He vanished from sight and Renamon squinted after him distrustfully. A minute passed and his dark purple head popped back into view. "This way!"

The followed their guide down a crumbling tunnel, descending slowly. Inside it was darker still than before, even Renamon's keen eyes could not see where they were going. Impmon seemed to have little trouble, his vision well attuned to the gloom after so long hiding in tunnels just like it. Many times Renamon and Biyomon cursed out loud as they stumbled over something or kicked their feet on a jutting rock. Several times they had to climb up piles of sharp stone to get to a ledge where the tunnel continued, and many times they came to bewildering intersections and junctions, but Impmon always seemed to immediately know where to go.

"How do you know the way?" she demanded to know, her voice low in the oppressive silence of the tunnels. She could feel the weight of all the rocks above her, pressing down on the air and banished such thoughts from her mind. Confined spaces were not her forte and she was getting more and more irritable by the second.

"Don't ask awkward questions, lady," Impmon hissed at her from somewhere in front. "We's nearly there. Now you's got to help me get in. There's gonna be guards."

"What?" she hissed back, her voice echoing in the tunnel. "You said this was a secret way."

"It is, to most. Duskmon knows 'bout it, but 'e don't care much. Hardly nobody knows it, so Dusky ain't putting many guards there. You can take 'em, I gots faith in you, girly."

"Do not call me that," she growled, only prompting him to chuckle evilly in the darkness, completely invisible to her even without his unique ability.

Some way later on she got a shock as he appeared suddenly next to her, whispering in her ear. "Up ahead," he murmured, his hot breath on her fur making her shudder with revulsion. She squirmed away from him in the tight space, checking behind to see if Biyomon was still following. In the distance she could see a weak light glowing around a bend in the tunnel, a light that marked the end of their journey and the beginning of whatever lay before.


	13. Chapter 13

Renamon rushed forwards, her paws aglow and completely overwhelmed two of the keramon guards that stood in the archway of an impressive back entrance to Duskmon's castle before they properly had chance to react. They fell without much of a struggle and she turned to the third, pleasantly surprised to see that Biyomon had won her own fight, standing proudly over the corpse of her opponent as it dissolved. She turned her attention to the entranceway. It was carved out of the same black rock the entire land seemed to be made of, an angular doorway opening into a large space that the tunnel they had been crawling through emptied into. A thin, dirty stream of water coursed through a channel in the centre, a couple of troughs carved from the rock nearby served as wells for water.

"No time to waste, ladies," cackled Impmon, shimmering back into view in the centre of the doorway. "We's got a date with Duskmon."

He led them up a winding staircase, hopping from step to step due to his short stature. Renamon followed cautiously, Biyomon behind her. "Come on!" he chided them, waving his hands impatiently.

"Where are you taking us?" Renamon demanded, folding her arms and unleashing her dangerous glare again.

"All in time, darlin'," he said with a wink, scuttling off down another high corridor. While they were better than the tiny, claustrophobic tunnels he had dragged them through to get there they were still overbearing and filled Renamon with a sense of horror, their apexes lost in the darkness where the light from the crackling torches did not reach. Anything could be hiding up there.

"I want to go home," Biyomon cried quietly, tugging at Renamon's tail.

"Be strong, Biyomon," she said, hoping her own voice would not shake. Renamon was rarely afraid, but even she was ready to admit this place gave her the creeps. Behind them she could hear the sound of shouting and armoured feet on stone, rushing their way. The dead guards had been discovered.

"In here, my dears," Impmon's voice called. "Impmon's found you's a safe place ta hide!"

Biyomon ducked through the open doorway and Renamon was too slow to catch the muffled squawk before she too followed. The door slammed shut behind her with a crash that shook the stone beneath her feet and through thick metal bars at the front of the prison cell she could see Impmon hopping about on his two short legs, laughing with glee.

"Daemon, Daemon!" he began shouting. "I have caught her! I, Impmon!"

"You little bastard," Renamon shrieked, rushing up to the bars and tugging at them. They were as sturdy as they looked. He stuck his tongue out at her and continued his little dance for a moment before scuttling away, still calling his master's name.

"What'll we do now?" cried Biyomon in despair, clutching at her arm. Renamon shook her off angrily, backing away from the bars.

"Stay back," she ordered, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, head tilted back. "Diamond storm!" she cried out loud, letting loose a flurry of ice shards at the bars. Her attack shattered harmlessly against the metal, barely even scratching it. "This is hopeless," she said, sinking to the floor in despair and holding her head in her paw. "How was I so blind?"

"You must have a plan, Renamon," said Biyomon anxiously. "You always do."

"Well not this time," she snapped. "Back in the forest, yes, there I was powerful, but I have been here before, I know what this place is like. Even the smallest grub in the dirt can be a match for you, and the very ground sucks the life from you. It is dangerous and powerful. I am out of my league."

Biyomon sat awkwardly beside her. "But… you're the strongest digimon that ever lived. You can do anything."

Renamon barked a short laugh. "I don't know where you got that idea." She saw the horrified expression on the bird's face and sighed, forcing herself to calm down. "Try to get some rest. I will think of something."

She felt his approach well before she saw him. Daemon himself came for her, standing almost four times her height and bending over slightly to fit under the high ceiling. His sweeping wings brushed either wall and a dark, malevolent power seemed to radiate from his body, making Renamon's paws shake with a primal and uncontrollable fear. Duskmon was unpleasant and strong, but Daemon was utterly terrifying. Biyomon remained blissfully asleep, unaware as the heavy bars dissolved before her and Daemon's huge clawed hand reached in to pick up Renamon's body as if she were a pile of rags. His sharp claws cut into her, making her cry out in pain but she could not move to defend herself, paralysed by fear and terror.

"Welcome to my domain," he rumbled, and his voice shook the foundations of the castle. Renamon trembled in his grasp, whimpering through closed eyes. "You are so small. It is strange that something so powerful can be hidden inside something so _weak_."

"What do you want with her?" shrieked Biyomon, awake now with her talons wrapped around the bars and her eyes alight with indignant fire. Her fear all forgotten she valiantly stood up to the demon lord. "Let her go!"

Daemon laughed with another sound that made dust and rubble fall from the ceiling. "Don't fret, little one, your time will come soon enough."

He strode off, Renamon still grasped tightly between his crushing claws, his leathery wings rustling as he moved. The little warmth that remained in her was sucked from her body, replaced with a numbing cold that penetrated right to the core of her spirit.

Some time later she was dropped unceremoniously in the centre of a pool of frigid water, landing face first and inhaling a mouthful. She turned, coughing and spluttering and trying to get up and out of the water but Daemon's powerful claw was there again, pushing here back down against the bottom. She gasped for breath, her chest constricted by the pressure but desperately needing to cough up the water in her lungs.

"Alright," said a familiar voice. "Immobilisation field is up. You can let her go."

The claw was withdrawn and Renamon coughed up the cold liquid in her lungs, gasping for breath and thrashing wildly, spraying water about. She tried to sit but something invisible held her down and stopped her from moving. She slowly moved her head to the side, dreading what she knew she would see.

"Jason," she cried weakly, trying to reach out to him. Every word was a struggle. "What…"

"Shh," he hushed with a frown, fiddling with the controls on something she could not see. "You're going to need your strength. Get Duskmon. We're ready."

Her heart fell as she saw the fearsome digimon nod and stride out of the room, leaving her alone with Jason and a couple of keramon hovering near the doorway. The cold water lapped at her sides, and a steady ticking sound was coming from somewhere, like a large clock counting down the seconds. Jason really had turned against her. The spark of hope and love she had carefully nurtured throughout the hellish trip thus far was finally blown out, leaving her in utter darkness.

"Please, I have to know," she began and Jason slammed a fist down on the edge of the marble pool, making it shudder despite its mass.

"Do not speak," he commanded, his voice suffused with a fury and anger she had never heard from him before, not even when he was at his worst when Samantha had died. "We are not here to talk."

She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of the answer to the question she wanted to ask. "Is this what you really are? Have you always been in league with the darkness?"

He appeared in front of her, standing tall above the pool and staring down. His eyes were as black as the darkest night, not a bit of light reflected from their surface. He stood and watched her, his expression blank. After a minute he turned away, still silent and shaking his head. She thought she had her answer and bit back her tears.

A moment later the two demon lords arrived, making the chamber feel crowded and small with their combined bulk. Each stood in a pool similar to the one Renamon lay in, splashing their feet about restlessly. Jason growled at them to stay still, continuing to work on the console before him. All around the edges of the room arcane machinery was clustered, small lights flickering and pulsating. Wires and cables trailed across the stone floors, snaking into receptacles around the three pools and disappearing into more machinery and boxes.

"Are you ready?" he asked them, his finger hovering over some control. "This is probably going to hurt you, too."

"Get on with it," growled Duskmon.

Jason thumbed the switch and the darkness in the room was replaced with a brilliant light, as if floodlights had been installed. The three pools glowed with an eerie brightness, illuminating their occupants from below. All around them the machinery and computers hummed and whined with a pitch that slowly intensified. The two demons clenched their muscles, but remained stoically silent, whilst Renamon arched her back despite the restraining spells holding her down and screamed in undisguised suffering.

"It's not working," Jason said, powering down the machinery. The two demons turned to glare at him and Renamon flopped limply back into the water, panting for breath.

"Why not?" demanded Daemon. "Turn it up!"

"Can't, instabilities. She's too weak. Could crumble at any time," Jason replied, his speech slightly hesitant and broken up. He placed a hand to his head and rubbed at his temples. Patterns of light swirled in his dark eyes briefly, like milk in a coffee cup and indicative of the fierce conflict that raged behind his temples. The darkness won, surging back across his eyes.

"Are you still with us, Jason?" asked Daemon dangerously, stepping forwards.

"Yes," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Just give me a moment."

"What…" croaked Renamon from where she lay shivering, unaware of much. "What are you doing to me?"

"Haven't you told her, Jason?" asked Duskmon contemptuously with a mean grin. He turned to her, pointing a long, bony finger. "Despite how worthless you appear, you're actually very valuable."

"You share a lot in common with these two. You each contain a part of Tessa, the goddess who created you all," Jason explained with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he was clearly suffering.

"Only, the parts we have do not permit us to leave this world. Once yours has been assimilated we will be like the gods we deserve to be, at last. Jason, activate it again. I will not be denied!"

"Okay, but on your heads be it. If she croaks then it's game over for your plans."

They tried again, three times. Each time Jason turned up the parameters on the machinery, pushing them all as far as he thought they could go until even the two powerful demons were groaning quietly with the strain. Renamon's cries had turned hoarse, her throat raw.

"Alright, damn it," he said, throwing down the control panel in disgust. "This isn't getting anywhere. You two aren't going to last much longer, we're all getting tired. And her screams are doing my fucking nut in. Take her back to the cells, we'll try again tomorrow."

"Why can't we just kill her?" demanded Daemon, ever the pragmatist. "You claimed that was how you first saw her."

"Tessa knows what's going on, she won't reveal herself to anybody now, not even me. You'd lose your only chance if you did that. We have to extract it ourselves, it's the only way. Now, I'm tired, we'll pick this up again tomorrow."

He stomped angrily out of the chamber, head held tightly in his hands. Duskmon motioned to the guards to take Renamon away and they complied, dragging her limp, unresisting body down the hallways and throwing her back into a different cell where she landed in a crumpled heap, curled up like a baby and sobbing softly.

* * *

><p>"There, there," soothed a gentle voice and a hand patted her on the back. Renamon uncurled herself slightly, turning to look behind. She was in a new cell, part of a much larger one divided up with bars. An elderly terriermon was reaching through the bars to her with his long ears.<p>

"Who are you?" she sobbed, sitting up and wrapping her arms and tail around her knees. "Are you going to hurt me, too?"

"Do I look like I'm going to hurt you?" he asked softly.

"Neither did Jason," she sniffed, eyes fixed on the dirty stone floor. The thought of him sent her reeling back into the memory of what had just happened, the indescribable, tortuous pain, and she shook violently and uncontrollably.

"Hush," he said, his voice low and calm. "You're going to get out of here."

"What does it matter if I do?" she said, shaking her head sadly. "I have nowhere to go. This darkness will overtake the whole world eventually."

"You have the power to stop that," he said, drawing her gaze. "I can sense it. But first you have to get out of here, alive."

"There _is_ no way out," she told him.

"That's where you're wrong," he said with a twinkle in his old eyes. "You must rescue Jason. He has the ability to stop all of this."

"Are you trying to make me angry?" she hissed, turning her fiery glare on him through the bars. "I cannot bear to speak his name anymore, he is the reason for all of this. He has manipulated me, played me like that damned flute."

"You are mistaken," Terriermon said. "I've seen a lot in my time here, and what that soul is suffering under is not normal. He's not himself, he's not in control of his own actions."

"What do you mean?" she asked, forcing herself to calm down. It was not fair to take out her frustration on the old digimon.

"He was a biological being, unlike us. Now he's entirely digital he's exposed himself to dangers his body never had to cope with before. He's become infected with an evil spirit that's forcing him to do the will of the demons. He's under their control, I'm sure of it."

Renamon was reluctant to believe him. It seemed that every time she let Jason a little further into her life he ended up hurting her just a little bit more. "How can you know that?"

"I'm not so different to you," he said with a knowing grin. "We're both different aspects of our creator, you and I. I was captured a long time ago for the same reason they want you, but I'm of little significance or use to them now. The part I possess is tiny, Tesseract's doubt, but they keep me here nonetheless. I've had a lot of time to think about things, I've seen a lot, and I continue to see a lot. You will learn too, in time, and with Jason's help, to see with senses other than those you are used to."

"Was Guilmon the same?" she asked. "Was he a part of her, too?"

"Very perceptive. Yes, he carried that part of her that was still young, like a child. All optimism and playfulness."

"That sounds a lot like Guilmon," she said with a light laugh. Her voice softened again and she shook her head slowly. "I want to believe that is not really him, but I cannot. He has hurt me so many times."

"He loves you, Renamon, you are the embodiment of all he held dear before he lost it all. And now he's trapped in his own mind, watching helplessly as he does awful things to you. I daresay he is suffering every time you do."

Suddenly, somebody else had given substance to the frail dream she had not dared to even think about in case it was gone, and the old digimon's words were far too much for her to bear. "He doesn't love anybody," she whispered, tears dripping from her fur to the dusty stone. "If he did he would stop these things. He would stop hurting me."

"You _have_ to help him, remind him of who he is, and give him the strength to overcome the prison he's in. It's the only way, Renamon."

She curled up tighter, lost in her misery and would not be drawn into conversation anymore. Sleep would not come, driven away by the anticipation of the horror that awaited her the next day. Exhausted, she was seized roughly from her cell, this time by Duskmon who was far less gentle than Daemon, if she had believed that possible. Terriermon called out to her, reminding her of what he had said, only falling silent when Duskmon turned and snarled at him to be quiet.

The march up to the chambers was painful and jarring. Renamon tried desperately to meditate, to calm herself down before the ordeal she knew she was about to go through but nothing could quell the terror she felt. _If only I had…_

"Hey, Dusky," came a disembodied voice from nearby. Her ears perked up, alert all of a sudden. "Remember me?"

With a flash of light Impmon materialised and at the same time evolved into his champion form, Devimon. An angry thrumming filled the air as the black winged creature faced Duskmon, a lifetime of pent-up anger setting his eyes alight. Before the demon had time to react he was being battered by sharp claws in an attack of such speed that it was difficult to follow. Duskmon roared in anger and dropped Renamon to the floor. She took advantage of her freedom and called upon her own powers, peppering the demon lord with sharp ice crystals and following up with a crippling flurry of punches to his head and neck. His armour was thick but her claws were sharp and despite her exhaustion she fought fiercely, charged by the anger also bottled up inside her.

"That's it!" shrieked Devimon, darting in for another attack as she peeled away a great chunk of Duskmon's chestplate, revealing the soft flesh and an eye beneath it. Devimon conjured a dripping dart and let it loose into the hole, closing the eye permanently. The flesh pulsed purple, the veins bulging grotesquely with the toxins beneath.

Duskmon stumbled as the poison worked through his body and began to paralyse him but his sheer size and strength were yet a match for Devimon's magical venom. While his movements were slowed he was still able to stand and he swung his great sword in a ringing arc, carving huge rents in the stone walls and showering them with sparks. Devimon caught the tip of the blade across his midsection and was sent crashing to the ground, wings now too torn to fly.

Renamon took her chance, leaping on Duskmon while he was distracted and clawing at more of his sensitive eyes. He howled in pain as her glowing blue fists burnt his body over and over again, all the while trying to shake her loose. On the floor Devimon was crawling onto his feet, trying to recover his strength.

"I bled for you! I did everything you ever asked of me, and more! This is for all them times you betrayed my loyalty!" he screamed, his voice loud and hysterical. He darted forwards, burying a second dripping blade deep into Duskmon's exposed chest. The mighty demon finally succumbed to the poison, tumbling forwards with a groan and crushing Devimon underneath. Renamon knew an ally when she saw one and rushed to his aid, trying in vain to push the twitching corpse off him.

"Ach, pretty lady," Devimon said sadly, his piercing crimson eyes closing wearily. "Don't you be worryin' about me. I gots what I came for. Save yerself an' yer friend. I've been waitin' for this a long time."

She stood back and watched in silence as they both shimmered into dark sparks, the vortices swirling around one another before fizzling away to nothing. She stood for a moment longer, regaining her breath and trying to get her bearings. The sound of running feet came from behind her and she took off down the corridor, her heart beating fast with the prospect of freedom. Suddenly she felt optimism, a welcome sense after so long in the wastelands. If she could just break the others out, they could train hard, gather their strength and maybe even enlist the help of the other humans. They would come back and crush Daemon into the ground, then she personally could deal with Jason.

The time for daydreaming was over, however, and she hurried back to the cells. She easily overpowered the single guard on the cellblocks, decapitating him before he even knew she was loose, then rushed down the cells, smashing open the locks on each door and letting the astonished occupants out. "Run!" she implored them, even though few of them needed any encouragement.

"Biyomon," she called as the bird hurried by after the others. "Get back to the forest, take any you can find with you. I'll join you as soon as I've finished here."

"Good luck," she squawked, not staying around a second longer than needed. Renamon turned to run back the way Impmon had brought them and froze in shock.

"Did you think it would be that easy to defeat a demon lord in his own realm?" taunted Duskmon, leaning casually on his sword at the end of the hallway.

"I saw you deleted," Renamon stammered with a gasp, backing up against the cold stone wall and leaning against it for support. The mental shock as severe as if someone had punched her.

"You know so little about the world," he sneered, picking up his sword and stomping forwards. She turned and ran but Daemon appeared at the other end of the hallway, blocking her exit entirely, a smug grin on his horrific horned face. "You cannot destroy a demon as powerful as I, in his own realm."

Renamon stood frozen in terror as Daemon silently reached out for her, wrapping his deathly cold claws around her and lifting her off the ground once more. Behind him stood Jason, watching silently with a coldpack pressed against his head. For a moment she thought she saw his blackened eyes flash with colour but it was gone as soon as it came and he stalked off, a dark mood surrounding him.

"Jason," she called after him, causing him to stop and turn. Time seemed to stand still. "Please wake up," she begged. Daemon squeezed her brutally, making her gasp involuntarily as the air was forced from her body. She struggled feebly against him but his grip was as unyielding as rock.

Jason snorted and turned, leading them along the corridor to the chamber from the day before where she was tossed into the pool again. The short pylons surrounding it crackled and glowed darkly, holding her down with the same invisible force she could not see. The two demons took up their positions, standing as still as rock and bracing themselves for the coming discomfort.

Renamon trembled in fear again, knowing what to expect this time made it all the worse. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jason hovering nearby, working at the control panel again. Before she had believed him evil, but now she dared to give credit to Terriermon's words and willed her heart to feel pity for him instead of hatred. "Fight it, Jason," she murmured quietly, keeping her voice low so that only he could hear her. He tore his hands away from the controls, thumping the side of his head with the palm of his hand. "I know you're in there."

"Don't you ever just shut up!" he yelled abruptly, glaring at her with his terrible, dead eyes. He slammed a fist down on the control panel, wracking her very soul with agony beyond words. She ground her teeth together, unable to open her mouth to speak. Jason was clutching at his head, growling and muttering under his breath. She did the only thing she could, and began to hum the same sad tune that she prayed he would recognise.

It was quiet and barely audible over the whining of machinery but it carried clearly to Jason's ears, making him pause in his work. The pain in Renamon subsided slightly and she sang louder, her voice ringing clear in such a gloomy, lifeless place. Jason stumbled forwards, ignoring the questions from his demon lords. "Stop that," he growled at her, leaning closer, and while his words were firm his voice wavered. She reached out a shaking hand and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer, still singing softly.

"Return to the machine!" commanded Daemon, loosening the wires around his wrists and taking a small step forwards, sensing that something was amiss. Jason ignored him, the pain in his temples was unbearable, the world was fading away and only the bright yellow of Renamon filled his vision. Suddenly she pulled herself up, fighting hard against the invisible bonds to kiss him. It was the briefest of moments, but it was enough and she collapsed back into the water, exhausted.

Jason stood and turned slowly, facing the two enormous dark digimon with his fists clenched by his sides. The black drained from his eyes to be replaced by green irises, glittering dangerously with an uncontainable fury. "No," he growled, his knuckles white with the strain. In a second the programs deep inside his own were purged and he was back in control once more.

Daemon stepped forwards, realising their spell had been broken. He raised his claws above him, calling forth the hellfires from his soul. A white-hot vortex of heat burst forth, surrounding Jason and incinerating a large portion of the room. Molten rock dripped from the walls and the machinery sank into gooey piles of metal. When the flames cleared Jason stood as before, watching them calmly. A neat circle of protected ground surrounded him and Renamon, but otherwise the room had been obliterated.

"My turn," he said with a grim smile. The ground and air shook violently and the walls began to collapse inwards, immense chunks of masonry cracking from the roof and falling only to be caught in mid air, rotating lazily as if they were no more dangerous than balloons. With a flick of his wrist Jason sent the entire lot hurtling towards the two demons, crushing them instantly under a thousand tonnes of rock. Two shimmering black clouds of data squeezed out through the cracks, whirling up into the crumbling ceiling where they vanished into the darkness.

"That won't stop them," Renamon said doubtfully, standing shakily behind him, the water pouring from her fur.

Jason reached for her damp paw, holding it tightly. "I know. But I can't teleport us out of here."

"I know the way out," she said, pulling her paw back and making to flee.

"And so do I," he said with another dark grin. A ball of light burst from the air before him, focusing into a tight beam that burnt cleanly through everything before it with the roar of a hurricane. When the smoke cleared they could see the outside far in the distance through the shimmering heat in the new tunnel that cut through walls, rooms and doors indiscriminately. As dark as the outside looked it was still vastly preferable to the depressing gloom inside the temple and they ran, paying no heed to the dark digimon who tried to stop them. Jason destroyed them all without even seeming to move. As he passed they simply burst into data and vanished.

"Jason, you are scaring me," Renamon gasped as they landed hard in the dirt outside the front of the castle. "What have you become?"

"Angry," he said simply, narrowing his eyes as the sight that greeted them. "No, that's not right, I'm not angry. I'm fucking _furious_."

He moved to stand before her, calmly facing a whole army of dark digimon assembled before their two demon masters. "Duck," he said calmly as several bolts of energy flew over their heads, then turned his attention back to the charging horde before him.

"I am going to destroy you all!" he howled, the intensity of his voice shaking the ground as the dark demons' had done before. At his unspoken command the sky above split open and a towering beam of pulsating energy crashed down into the ground before him, shaking the entire world. He sculpted it with his mind, forming a ring of brilliant white light that illuminated the landscape for miles around. It wrapped around the digimon army, halting them in their charge and ploughing downwards into the ground to tear away at the fabric of their simulated world. Static hissed and crackled beyond as the ring closed, shrinking the enclosed land until there was nothing left but a glittering black void with a single glowing burst of light at the centre. With a deafening bang it vanished into nothing. The few remaining dark digimon took one look at him, wreathed in fire and light and fled. Of the two demons there was no sign, but Jason knew they would be back before long.

The bright light all around faded and he fell heavily to the ground, his head in his hands. The fires around him burnt out, and he was back to the man that Renamon knew again. Cautiously she approached him, her feelings completely at odds with one another. Here was the man she had grown so fond of, but he had turned from her once more and she was not sure she would ever be able to trust him again.

"Can you ever forgive me?" he asked after a long moment of silence where they both looked the other way, lost for words. "I can fix all this, but I can't change what I did to you."

"I do not know," she said, eyes cast down and her back to him. "Is that really you?"

"Yes," he replied softly, desperate for her to believe him. It was hard to breath again, and not just because of the thin air. He was afraid of her reply.

"I don't know how to be sure," she said, wrapping her arms around her chest and shivering from the cold. "You were so different, even just then."

"That wasn't me," he said, pleading. "That was something else, in my head. It's gone now, I promise."

Renamon turned and looked away into the distance, a sad frown on her face. "I will find a way to prove it to you," he said without any idea how. "I won't let anything happen to you again, I promise."

She turned and watched him and he could see from the pained expression on her face that she desperately wanted to believe him. Could things ever be the same again?

"In time it will heal," she said, eyes downcast. "I hope. Just… be patient."

He nodded, eyes closed. Time was something he was hopeful that he had more of now, the threat of a stroke no longer hanging over him.

At that moment the ground began to shake and shudder and they both stumbled, trying to keep their footing and looking around urgently for the new danger. One of the towers on the temple cracked across its centre, the top portion leaning slowly and crumbling into pieces as it fell. The earthquake subsided in intensity, the dull rumble from all around fading away to nothing. Only the sound of the collapsing masonry could be heard, and Jason's breathing was loud in his ears.

A thin wail began, high and sinister in the darkness. "What was that?" Renamon asked, her eyes wide.

Jason was turning around rapidly, trying to look in all directions at once. "It's them," he exclaimed, his voice betraying his terror. "The things that infected my mind before. Look out!"

From the gaping hole in the tower a cloud of tiny red dots poured forth and approached rapidly until they were engulfed in a swarm of miniature beating wings and glowing red eyes. Each creature was no bigger than his thumb, surrounded by a deep, dark red mist that hid their true forms and seemed to draw all light away. Jason was flailing madly and stumbling backwards, batting at them with his hands and knocking them from the air. For every one he destroyed another ten took their place, pressing in closer and closer until he felt he would suffocate.

"Jason!" came Renamon's voice, muffled by the clouds. He tried to look for her but she was hidden behind a curtain of them. "What are they? How do I fight them?"

"You cannot," rumbled a familiar voice. Through tiny gaps in the swarm Jason could catch glimpses of the two demons standing nearby, watching calmly. He could feel the sting of the thousands of bugs each time they surged forwards, trying to find their way into his consciousness again.

"You won't pull the same trick twice!" Jason yelled, all the while battling forwards to where he thought the demons were standing. "I've learnt to block them."

He was tired, but well enough to conjure his weapons, whirling them around himself in a protective vortex of destruction. The bugs retreated briefly, regrouping before they dove in again. In the brief moment of visibility he could see Daemon struggling with Renamon, the larger digimon having the upper hand and forcing her to submit. She was too tired to digivolve. Jason's emotions flared brightly and he drew energies from the land around him, preparing for a crackling fireball that would take out all of the bugs and Duskmon along with it. He never got chance to finish it, however, as the bugs took the opening and latched onto his attack, finding an entryway there.

He had realised at the last second what they were doing but it was too late to completely cancel the fireball and Jason fell to the floor in agony as his own attack doubled back on him, heat and electricity washing over his skin and knocking the breath from his body. He lay in the dirt, twitching as the last of the electrical charge dissipated. Duskmon was hardly in any better shape, kneeling and trembling with every muscle bulging as it wore off.

"You are a fool," Duskmon told him eventually with a sneer when the effects had passed, pushing him onto his back with a clawed foot. Jason lashed out at him, immediately regretting it as the force of the impact rebounded off the demon and crashed into him as well. Duskmon shook off the attack, barely stumbling.

"What have you done to me?" Jason demanded, trying to sit up only to be pushed roughly back down again. The program they had infected him with had manifested itself as a glittering red collar around his neck, studded with twinkling black gems. He could feel it burning there, singing his skin. He tugged at it with his hands, but it was solid and unbreakable.

"Is it not obvious? Any attack you try to make will harm you, as well," the demon said, kicking him sharply in his side with a talon. Jason rolled over and clutched at the injury. "You cannot attack us, not without killing yourself."

"And what are you waiting for?" Jason forced out between clenched teeth. "Finish it already."

"There _is_ an alternative," Duskmon said. "We see how powerful you are. We desire that power. Give it to us. You may live on inside us, a part of a god."

Jason managed a short, bitter laugh. "Like hell I will," he said. "You're enough of a nuisance like you are." He only had half his concentration on the demon, the rest was busy trying to disarm the program around his neck. It was not that complicated, and this time he had free will which made it a lot easier. It was going to take him a while, though, and he wondered how he could stall for time.

"Ah, ah," said Duskmon, kicking him roughly over onto his side again and pointing at Daemon, still holding Renamon firmly before him. "If you try to remove it again then Daemon _will_ finish her. Submit to us."

As if to emphasise the point Daemon squeezed her painfully until she squealed uncontrollably and Jason clenched his teeth, shaking with impotent rage. "All right, all right," he snapped angrily, struggling to resist the urge to run and tackle Daemon. Renamon's cries died away and she hung limply from her captor's hands.

"Give it to us," Duskmon demanded, kicking him onto his back again and standing over his prone body, a sharp claw against his chest.

"I don't know how," Jason lied, anxiously craning his neck to try and see Renamon.

Duskmon increased the pressure on his chest, kneeling down closer and peering into Jason's face. "I do not believe you." Behind him, and out of Jason's view, Renamon whimpered in pain again. She was trying her hardest not to make a sound, he could tell. He bit his lip until it bled, trying desperately to think of something he could do, anything at all. Duskmon's weight was crushing him, making it hard to breath and harder to think. "I will ask once more. Give in to us."

Renamon's whimpers grew louder. "Please, stop!" he tried to shout, but with so little breath it was more of a gasp. "I'll do it, please let her go."

"No, Jason, don't give in!" Renamon cried out weakly. "They will be unstoppable."

He squeezed his eyes shut and visions of the entire digital dimension blackened and desolate flashed before his eyes, dark digimon roaming freely across what used to be verdant meadows and deep lakes. Renamon's forest was in flames, its residents either dead or in thrall to their dark masters. He also knew that if he gave them the power they desired then they would have no further use for him and he would deleted anyway, his life was already marked, but perhaps he could still help his friend.

He pushed back against Duskmon's claw, releasing the pressure on his chest slightly. "Maybe it won't be me," he said calmly. The world around them darkened further and lightning crackled somewhere in the clouds above. "But somebody _will_ stop you, someday, I guarantee that."

Above them the sky burst open and the bright white substance of the digital ether came pouring down upon the landscape, like thick, twisting pillars of purest marble.

"Jason, stop!" screamed Renamon in dismay, struggling fiercely against Daemon's iron grip. The light intensified, seeking out the two demons, and, unfortunately, Jason as well. Daemon and Duskmon were bathed in it and at the edges they began to dissolve, faster and faster until there was nothing left but two large piles of shimmering dust, gently settling into cones.

Jason's pile was much smaller.


	14. Chapter 14

"No," Renamon gasped, falling to the ground and kicking away from the foul black dust she fell into. She scrabbled across to the tiny heap nearby, looking at it in despair as if somewhere underneath lay Jason. The other two were already blowing away, drawn by the mysterious force that kept re-creating the two demon lords. Jason's pile sat calmly in the still air, completely inanimate. Soon the demons would return, and she knew she did not have long.

With a shaking paw she reached out to touch all that was left of him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You shouldn't disturb that," said a soft voice from all around and Renamon blinked back her tears, looking around for the source. It was a familiar voice, one she felt sure she knew but just could not place.

"Who are you?" she said loudly, looking up in the sky in case it was above her. She noticed with alarm that the air itself was beginning to glow with a bright white light, the edges of everything nearby shone with silver. The cloud of light began to take form, condensing into the shape of someone she never thought she would see again.

"Guilmon?" she gasped, eyes wide with shock.

"Not quite," said the apparition. It was definitely Guilmon, except he was ghostly and ephemeral, glowing so brightly in the darkness that she almost could not look at him. He padded forwards, looking down sadly at the pile of dust, then back at her. "I am Guilmon, but I am also Tesseract. Or, at least, what is left of her."

Renamon gasped and sat back, eyes wide in shock. "Guilmon was a god?"

Tesseract smiled, passing a paw over the heap, watching it intently. "No, he was like you, an aspect digimon. I have his memories, his feelings. He returned to me, when he died. You needn't worry, he knows you are sorry, and he forgave you the moment you left. He does not want you to be sad for him."

Renamon's tears flowed freely, but behind her sorrow was a gladness that Guilmon was still around, at least in spirit. She reached out for him, but her paw just passed through the light with a shimmer.

"I am sorry," Tesseract said. "I know how comforting a physical body would be for you, but I cannot take real form in this world anymore."

Renamon sat up, kneeling forwards and waving her paw at the heap. She was afraid to ask her question in case the reply was not what she wanted. "Can… can you help Jason?"

"Yes," Tesseract replied. "I think so. He did this for you, once, you know. But you must promise not to tell him that I was here. Look after him, Renamon, he is very dear to me, as only you can know."

Renamon nodded mutely, watching in undisguised awe as the glowing vision of Guilmon sank into the heap of ash like water poured over sand. The glow remained, however, growing brighter and brighter until she had to close her eyes, yet even then she could still see it, so strong she could feel the intensity of it on her fur. Eventually it faded away and when she opened her eyes again Jason sat before her, scratching his head with his fingertips. He looked extremely confused.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked, feeling around his neck for the collar that was no longer there. "That was meant to be the end."

Renamon wondered what she should say. She clearly could not tell him that Guilmon's ghost had resurrected him. He frowned, looking around at the slight glow that was still fading away. "Tessa was here, wasn't she?" he said, his face clearly telling her he knew the answer.

She nodded again, setting her mouth into a thin line and wiping at the wetness on her face. "She brought you back."

Jason held his head in his hands. "Third time's the charm," he muttered. "That was the last piece of her. Now I really will never see her again."

"She told me not to tell you," Renamon admitted, not sure how to console him.

"That's just like her," he said with a weak smile. A couple of tears fell from his eyes. "She knew I'd be sad. Always trying to protect me, right until the bitter end. So many people have died because of all this. It might have been better if I hadn't started any of it."

"You should not waste her gift," Renamon told him softly.

He nodded and looked up at her, and suddenly the memories of what he had done came flooding back, her screams of agony. He looked down at his hands folded loosely in his lap. "And you've suffered so much, because of me," he said sadly. "I've done such awful things to you."

"I don't blame you," she said, kneeling beside him and touching his arm lightly. "I understand now, it was not you that did those things."

"But it was," he said, tears still in his eyes. "I was there, all along, watching. If only I was stronger I could have stopped it, but I failed you. I nearly killed you."

"I've been hurt before, Jason," she said softly, making him look at her. "And I always recover. I forgive you, and you must forgive yourself. You have made it right, and that is what matters to me. The pain is forgotten, and I think I know that you can replace it with something better."

He placed his hand over her paw. "You're really quite something, Ren," he said.

"Is it true, that I have a part of our creator inside me?"

"Yes," he said, looking away guiltily. "I meant to tell you, but I never got the chance. You have one of the strongest and most complex parts of Tessa in you, that's why they wanted you. They made me take the others so that you'd follow me."

"Why them? Why not me?"

"I couldn't control you, you're too strong. You would have torn me to pieces. I had to make you follow of your own will. I hated it, Ren, every second. I convinced that I'd lost you, that you would never want to see me again, even if you did survive. But no matter what I tried I couldn't stop. I was out of control. But you finally gave me the strength to break free. I'm sorry it had to go so far."

She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. "You are wrong, I do want you, you are my friend. My closest friend."

He smiled, feeling better. Renamon continued, "While I was locked away in there I met a digimon called Terriermon. He told me about the different aspects of the creator. He said he was her doubt. What does that mean?"

Jason's eyes opened wide and he sat up straight. "He's the break. He's the one that started all this. Tessa never had any doubt, _ever_. Everything was clear to her, even a hundred moves ahead, until they took me. Then she began to doubt her decisions. It was doubt that tore her apart, shattered her consciousness into its constituent parts."

Renamon looked ashamed, her head bowed. "I… trusted him. I thought he was on our side. I listened to him, he seemed sincere."

"Oh, I don't doubt he was. He's not evil, Ren. It was nothing he did, just an instability that he's ended up with. Someone had to get it. You have mostly happy memories, his must be like nightmares, all of the bad things that ate away at Tessa until she tore herself to pieces."

Renamon was silent for a while, her face impassive and unreadable as usual. "Which aspect do I have?" she asked eventually.

He smiled at her. "Haven't you worked that out yourself?"

"I… don't know," she replied quietly, avoiding his gaze and looking down at her paws that lay limply in her lap. "Maybe."

"The largest part of her, the reason she cared so much for my species to want to help them. Your memories are those of her compassion and friendship, the parts of her that could comprehend love and affection."

"I think it is more than just a memory," she said quietly after taking a deep breath, now wringing her paws together. It was far more difficult than she had imagined it would be to actually say out loud. "It is a real feeling that I have been trying hard to suppress, but it is going to kill me if I try any harder. I think I am in love with you."

"Only think?" he said with an arched eyebrow, a soft smile spreading across his face.

She pushed at him with a paw and he laughed, catching it and kissing the back. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you how happy that makes me feel. This might be the blackest place in the world but you've made it feel like heaven. I love you too, Ren. It's taken me a while to admit it, but I really do."

She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, her nerves and tension all released. "And now I am truly all better. There really is nothing you cannot fix."

"You know," he said with a grin, squeezing her fondly against him. "If the Renamon from a few months ago saw us I think she'd be sick on the spot."

She laughed, a bright sound in such a dark place. "Maybe. But that digimon was blind and foolish."

He kissed the top of her head affectionately and released her, standing up. "Come on, we need to finish this. I've learnt a lot more while I was locked away. I delved too deep, and without regard for what could happen to me. Daemon, or someone, was ready, though, and before I knew what was happening those things had appeared, and then there was code inside of me that overrode my own. I think you guys grow up with natural protection, but it turns out I have to make it myself. Still, live and learn. I've also learnt where they came from. Tessa's programs couldn't have broken out themselves because they were inactive. Something triggered it, and I know what that trigger was."

"What?" she asked, smoothing her fur back down.

"The same organisation that tried to destroy Tesseract in the first place by taking me hostage and causing the fracture, the same organisation that then tried to shut this world down. The same organisation that employed me. All under different names, of course, but I can see the link now."

She stood to stand beside him, her expression calm and controlled once again, the familiar Renamon who had intimidated him so badly only a few months before and the same digimon he had come to be so fond of. "What must we do?"

"We have to find Terriermon," he said. "He holds the key to the world."

* * *

><p>They chased after the fleeing prisoners, many of them Renamon's friends from the forest. The group was heading for the border, led by Biyomon and harassed by the twisted, evil denizens of the land. Biyomon was really beginning to shine, however, and between her and some of the older escapees they were holding their ground well.<p>

"Renamon!" Biyomon called in delight as she spotted the bright yellow fox catching up with them. The group stopped to watch and Renamon drew closer, revealing Jason following close behind.

"Watch out!" shrieked the bird, spotting Jason and mistaking him for a pursuer. Her confidence was bolstered from all the fighting and she launched a ball of green fire that streaked across the ground, lighting the landscape with an eerie glow then broke into an aggressive run at him, her beak open wide, ready to attack.

"Biyomon, stop," cried Renamon, moving to intercept her. Jason caught the fireball in his hand, absorbing it entirely and smiled.

"It's okay," he said, as if nothing had happened. Renamon glared at the bird, making her cower down. "She's only trying to protect you. But I'm not the enemy anymore, Biyomon."

"What's going on?" Biyomon wailed, looking around in bewilderment.

"We are going to finish this," Renamon said calmly. "Where is Terriermon?"

"Oh, Renamon," she sighed, sagging visibly. "It was terrible, he wouldn't come with us. I begged him to follow, told him that he'd be happy in our village. He stayed behind to fight, he said he would hold them off and give us a chance. He wouldn't take no for an answer!"

"He knows what we're going to do," Jason said suddenly with a smile, realisation dawning. "And we've gone the wrong way. He's stayed behind to wait for me, not to fight. Although goodness knows I suspect he could do it if he wanted to. I can feel him somewhere in this forsaken place. He's been here for so long. I can sense the immense power he could wield."

"But, Jason, how could he _know_ what was going to happen?"

"I guess he's worked out how to read the data streams, like I can. I bet he can see what's happening anywhere in the digital world. That's how he knew about me, about what was wrong."

"We still have no idea where he is," Renamon stated bluntly.

"I have an inkling of an idea. There's a reason the demons built their stronghold there. It's the source of their strength. That's where the program is. And that, I suspect is where we'll find our friend hiding, waiting patiently for us."

Renamon sent Biyomon away with the others, instructing them to travel until they reached the border and not to stop for anything or anyone. "There is no time to waste," she said. "We can only guess what the demons will do to him if they find him. Hurry!"

Jason needed no encouragement and they took off across the damp, dark ground back the way they had come. Renamon studied him closely as he leapt and bounded from rock to tussock to firm ground, much the same as she was doing. The wind pulled at the hair on his head, making a mess to match her own unbrushed fur. He looked so thoughtful and she wondered what he was going on inside his head. To all intents he appeared completely recovered, and she could not deny that she trusted him now after his sacrifice earlier but there was still something inside her that felt uneasy, a worry that the same cycle would repeat over and over, that he would come back to her only for something to take him away again. For a fleeting moment she wished that she had never followed him into that forest so long ago and become involved in everything.

She was not looking where she was going, a dangerous mistake at such high speed and she missed a step, catching her foot in a crack between two rocks and tumbling head over heels in a cartwheel that slammed her into a dry, crumbling tree trunk. Stars flashed before her eyes as she scrambled up to a sitting position, cursing herself for being so distracted. Bits of dislodged wood and bark rained down around her. In an instant Jason was there, feeling her all over for breaks. "Jesus, Ren, are you alright?"

She nodded, pushing him away, angry with herself. "I am fine. There was a loose rock."

He pressed his lips together and nodded tersely. Despite her extensive practice at controlling her expressions she was still a poor liar, and she knew it. "Well, no matter," he said, turning away from her to point into the distance where a plume of brown smoke rose straight up into the perfectly still, stagnant air. "We're pretty much here anyhow. Keep your wits about you, those two could be anywhere. Can you detect Terriermon? I can feel him around here somewhere, but I can't pinpoint him."

Renamon nodded, standing and brushing her fur clean of the dirt and twigs. "This way."

"What's eating you?" he asked, catching her up and falling into step beside. "You seem… preoccupied."

"I just don't like this place," she told him, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "We should get this over with so we can leave."

"Agreed," he said with a shudder, looking around at the desolate landscape. There was an invasive stink in the air that he feared would take days to get out of his hair.

They walked in silence for a while, slower this time, although Renamon would never admit she had lost her nerve after tripping. Eventually she stood and looked around. "He is around here, I can sense him very strongly."

"I don't see anything," Jason said glumly, looking around and shrugging his shoulders. There was not a lot to be seen, stunted scrubland and the occasional rock was all that was visible.

"This world is riddled with tunnels," she said, pacing about and tapping the ground optimistically with her foot. "He must be below us. Can you dig down, like you did in the castle? He might be in danger, we should hurry."

"No," he said sheepishly. "I don't know how to control that. I was angry, it just sort of came out on its own. Now I've calmed down it's gone. I think it must be a bit like when you digivolve to Kyubimon, that only seems to happen when you're in distress or very angry."

"And I thought you had ascended to demi-god status," she said, the ghost of a grin tugging at her small mouth.

"I wish," he said glumly. "I'm just plain old me."

He looked so ordinary and harmless again that she suddenly felt sorry for ever doubting him. "Come on," she said brightly. "There has to be an entrance around here somewhere."

Their search took them a while but eventually Jason stumbled, quite literally, across a thin dome that began to crumble under his feet with a sound like crackling ice. "Ren!"

She turned just in time to see him vanish from sight and a frightening sense of deja-vu crept up on her. "Jason!" she cried out, racing to where he had vanished and peering down into the gloom. "Are you okay?"

"Found him!" came the reply from the darkness. There was a brief flash and a glowing orb of light materialised, hovering around the space. She could see Jason picking himself up off the floor and rubbing at his shoulder, the rubble of the collapsed roof all around. Sitting calmly on the floor nearby was Terriermon, looking up at her through the hole.

"Neat trick," she said, dropping down nimbly into the hole and gesturing at the glow.

"Maybe I'll teach it to you, some day," Terriermon said affably, climbing wearily to his feet and waddling over to join them. "I'm glad you could, aha, drop in."

Jason grinned, despite himself. "I've been looking forward to meeting you," he said, kneeling down to put himself on a level with the short digimon. "How did you know we'd come?"

"Just a hunch," the old digimon said with a smile. "You've seen the program, haven't you?"

"I caught a glimpse of it, yes," Jason said with a nod. "It's anchoring the two demons in place, isn't it? Preventing them from being deleted, restoring them each time."

"Exactly," Terriermon said, leading them away from the crumbling chamber they were in. The roof had turned out to be very dirty glass, once an ornately decorated dome over a subterranean parlour. If the sun had ever shone in such a desolate world then it would have looked splendid.

"Your people created it," the small digimon continued as they walked to safer ground. "To try and dissolve the world from the inside. It was like a real digimon, but soulless and uncaring. It awoke the two aspects that you now know as Duskmon and Daemon. They've been creating this place ever since, desperate to leave, as you know. Now it's out of control, instead of destroying the world it's creating more of the terrible place you now walk in."

"How do we kill it?" demanded Renamon, uninterested in the history lesson.

"How, indeed," Terriermon said, casting her a sideways glance as he led them into a large chamber ringed with ornately carved seats and a great statue of a serpent in the centre. "I know how, but I don't possess the strength anymore."

"Where is it? I possess all the strength I need."

"Your confidence and enthusiasm is commendable, Renamon, but alas it is not that simple. The program is not here in this world, it exists outside the boundaries, beyond the endless void and static. I can take you there, but it won't be like this world, you can't just keep scratching at it until it dies. The rules are different there. You will need to lend me your strength as I destroy it."

"Fine. What are we waiting for?" she demanded restlessly. Jason laid a hand on her forearm, calming her.

"Something's wrong," he said. "This doesn't make sense. The program would have to have some sort of interface here in this world to be able to affect it."

"Very astute," Terriermon said with a nod. Renamon was an expert at expressions and she frowned slightly at the brief look of annoyance on the old digimon's round face. There was something he was not telling them, she was sure of it. "But it is more complex than that. This program's interface is many-fold, in a million tiny places that you can't see. You'll understand more when I show you. Take my paws, I will transport us to the underworld."

Renamon looked to Jason, silently passing the decision on to him. To her dismay he seemed distant and, judging by the look on his face, slightly in awe of the wise old digimon before them. She sighed and took his hand in one paw, holding Terriermon's proffered paw in the other.

"Hold tight, now," he said, shooting them a comforting smile before a tingle like electricity shot up her arms and into her body. It was not an uncomfortable sensation, but it _was_ highly disorientating and when it stopped she swayed unsteadily on her feet, still holding onto Jason tightly, but this time for support. Jason stood calmly, looking around, completely un-phased by the experience.

"You have done this before?" she asked him quietly, unconsciously pressing closer until her shoulder touched his. He nodded and gave her a quick wink that said 'everything will be fine'. She tried to relax.

There was no ground beneath them, although it felt as if there were. She imagined that they were walking on the most perfect sheet of glass conceivable, so pure and clear that she could not see it at all. All around them it was dark, but dark in a clean way, not like the dirty, uncomfortable gloom of the world they had left behind. The darkness was threaded with an infinite number of tiny coloured lines, all pulsating and twisting with a mind of their own.

"What is this place?" she whispered quietly into his ear, afraid to disturb the gentle thrum of sound all around them. The sight was mesmerising.

"They're the things that make up our world," he answered, reaching out and plucking at some nearby, like they were the strings of the universe's most complicated musical instrument. They rang with an unearthly note. "Each one is a process, a few million of them make up even the simplest of digimon. You and I have billions. It's these that suck the life from the human networks, like parasites."

"How can it be so complex?" she asked, staring around in awe and incomprehension.

"You're a complicated being," he said, squeezing her paw. "Takes a lot of stuff to make you tick. You can see patterns, groups of threads interacting. You can even begin to see the landscape if you try. See there, that's a mountain range, the stacks of data tied to that thread are storing geometry and vertex data, and the mass indices are enormous. And here, this group is clear, it's a very simple creature, maybe a fish or an insect."

Renamon frowned, trying to peer closer at the threads but they remained just as indistinct. "I don't see anything."

"I guess it takes some getting used to," he said with a shrug. "Come on, Terriermon's getting away."

They followed after the small digimon, stepping around clusters of nodes and data. Jason tugged Renamon along gently, not letting go of her paw. She was grateful for the contact, lost in a sea of unfamiliarity. Terriermon stopped up ahead and Jason's grip on her paw tightened slightly. She looked at his face, alarmed by his wide eyed expression. "What is it?" she asked, leaning close and following his gaze. She could see nothing but more of the infernal lines, twisting and pulsating seemingly at random.

"It's awful," he gasped, seeing something she could not. "Hideous. How can we ever stop that?"

"Stop what?" she demanded, a little louder this time. She shook his hand to wake him up. "I cannot see anything."

"I'm sorry," he said, snapping out of it. "I guess digimon probably don't have the same affinity for this stuff that I do. To me this is all order and structure. I built a lot of this, Tesseract did the rest. I guess to you it's just a bowl of noodles. Which does rather beg the question: how can you see it, Terriermon?"

The small digimon turned quickly. "Digimon _can_ see it. But it takes a lot of concentration, a lot of practise and time. We must stop it, before it causes even more damage. Once it is gone the demons can be defeated. Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course," Renamon said. "But I fear I cannot help you. I cannot fight what I cannot see."

"I can see it," Jason said. He gentled pulled his hand out of Renamon's anxious grasp and began to wave them around before him, working on something only he could see. Terriermon started, unsure of what to do. Renamon clasped her hands tightly across her belly, glancing around nervously. She suddenly felt very small, insignificant and lost in such an endless space and the urge to hold onto Jason once more was intense.

"Be careful, Jason," warned Terriermon, his voice low. "It's dangerous."

"I know," he mumbled, his face scrunched up in concentration. "It's so complicated, I don't understand it. Who on Earth made this?" Suddenly he fell backwards, white lightning crackling over his skin. Renamon cried out in distress and fell beside him, afraid to touch anything, still feeling helpless. Jason growled in pain and slowly the arcs faded, allowing him to sit up again. "Jesus, that's strong."

"Don't hurt yourself," Terriermon said urgently. "Let me do it. Merge with me, give me the strength to finish it."

Renamon looked down at him in shock. "Merge? That is what Daemon and Duskmon were trying to do with me, isn't it?"

"Yes, but they forced it. It cannot be forced, Renamon, it must be consensual. And they wanted to use your abilities for evil, they would have destroyed you in the process. A true merge does not require that."

"No!" she said, leaping back a foot, the terror and fear from before came flooding back. Her eyes were wide and wild, looking around for a way out. "I cannot do it!"

"Shh," Jason said, standing quickly and hugging her to him. Her body was trembling and he stroked the soft fur of her back to try and soothe her. "We don't need to do that."

He turned to Terriermon, pushing back the irritation he felt towards the digimon for upsetting her. He was only trying to help, after all. "You've done enough, my friend, simply by showing me this. I can see how it works," Jason said, not to be defeated. "I think. And from here I think I can get into contact with the human lab that created it."

Before Terriermon could protest Jason was diving through the network once more, deftly filtering out streams of data that were not part of the digital world. He patched into an audio streaming service, locating a particular user and injecting his own voice into the channel.

"Mack?" he asked tentatively, unsure if it would work. He was dimly aware of Terriermon tugging at his sleeve but needed his concentration and ignored it for the moment.

"Who's this?" came Bailey's unmistakable voice, coloured by concern and irritation. "How'd you get this address?"

"Mack! It's me, Jason," he said joyfully. "I've got an outside line."

"Oh, man," Bailey said and Jason imagined him sitting up straight and hunching closer to his monitor. "What's happening in there? Stuff's going mental up here. Complete network blackout in some places,Europe's pretty much offline."

"Where to begin," he said with a dry laugh. "I need your help. Do you know anything about another programme to bring down the 'dimension? We weren't the first, I don't think."

"No," came the terse reply.

"Mack, don't lie to me," he said. "I'm inside it, right now. If you know anything about it then you've got to help me out. It's out of control. It's what caused the problem in the first place. I've got to shut it down, but I need to know more about it."

There was a pause on the other end and Jason was worried that Bailey had cut the call. "I'd get locked up if I'm caught telling you about this. D'ya really think you can shut it down?"

"Yes, absolutely," he said eagerly, his pulse racing. "What is it, Mack? Who made it?"

"Stein commissioned the project over a year ago, when the digimon were first discovered. Project Omega, it's called."

"So they made it to destroy the world from the inside?"

"No, it wasn't designed to _destroy_ the digital world, it's to _harness_ it. Project Omega recognised that the system of viruses that ran the simulation controlled data on the Internet. If we could control that…"

"…then you'd have the most potent weapon on the planet," Jason finished for him. "But it got out of control, didn't it? It unbound those parts of Tesseract she had hidden for a reason."

"Yeah. Stein covered it up. If they found out that his it was his project to blame…"

"Damn," he swore, not having realised how deep everything had run. He had thought they were the first, but that was not the case. "Well, we've got the chance to shut it down for good. How do I stop it?"

"I wasn't involved much," Mack said. "I dunno a lot about it. I know it's a class eight AI with a burst mode matrix backing its integrators. Gamma channels should be throttled heavily, limiting its consciousness, don't see that they could've breached. I'm sorry, man, I really don't know a lot more. I was just a grunt on that project, really."

"No, that's great," he replied. "I did my thesis on class eights. If that's what's inside there I can just plough through and get at it."

"Be careful, man," he said. "It's great to hear from you again. We feared the worst after you vanished last time."

"You can't kill me off that easily," he said with a grin that Bailey could not see. "Chat later."

He returned his attention to the task at hand. Terriermon was hopping around in agitation, plucking at his sleeve. "What was that?" he asked, a little brusquely.

"I was talking to one of the guys who designed this," he said. "I think I can stop it. I'm going in."

"You will not be able to," Terriermon insisted, the pleasant tone of voice he maintained crumbling. "You must let me do it. Merge with me. Can't you see it's the only way?"

"Do not speak to Jason in that tone," Renamon chided, breaking out of the warm embrace Jason still held her in. It was too late in any case, Jason's eyes were closed and he was busy elsewhere.

"But we're wasting time! Daemon could arrive at any moment to stop us."

Mention of the fearsome dark digimon caused Renamon to fall silent and she quietly pressed herself against Jason for comfort again.

"Yes, that helps you to focus, doesn't it?" Terriermon sneered. The gentle old digimon was gone, replaced with a slightly angry and impatient younger version.

"I remember nearly everyone from the beginning," Renamon said slowly, her eyes narrowing and her fists clenching at her sides. "Why do I not recall you?"

Jason twitched against her, his eyes closed and his hands fidgeting unconsciously by his side as he worked on the program that she could not see. "I don't understand," he muttered through the trancelike state he was in. "I've split its outer layers off, its firewalls are open, but it's not a class eight, it's not even a class two. It's barely alive. A class eight should look a lot more like a real digimon than this."

He jerked once more, falling to his hands and knees with a groan, the lightning crackling over his skin again. Renamon leapt away with a shriek, the uncomfortable shocks travelling to her too. "Jason!"

"It's got him!" gasped Terriermon, eyes wide. "I warned you! It's not the same machine the humans made. It's evolved, changed, got stronger."

This time the lightning was not fading, and if anything it was getting stronger, forcing Jason lower and lower. "What do we do?" Renamon cried, afraid of the invisible enemy that was harming her lover.

"Quick, you _must_ merge with me before it's too late!" Terriermon insisted, seizing his chance and grabbing both her paws. "I can save him! I've been studying it for years! There can be no more mistakes. Trust me."

Renamon chewed her lip, fighting against her own body to stop the rise of bile in her throat and the weakness that tried to take her legs from under her. She looked at Jason, twitching on the invisible floor and her mind was made up. She would suffer anything for him. "Okay," she said quietly. "What do I do?"

Terriermon released a sigh of thanks, squeezing her paws tightly. "Just relax, do not resist like before. It will be painless."

She squeezed her eyes shut, frightened. Relaxing was the last thing on her mind but she forced her muscles to unclench and tried to imagine the calm darkness of the night sky, silent and soothing. Terriermon was beginning to glow with an aura of nameless colours, the threads around him bending toward them like metal to a magnet.

"No, stop," moaned Jason, stretching a shaking, crackling arm out to her. "It's him."

Renamon's eyes shot open and she looked to Jason, seeing the panic in his face. Terriermon was too bright to look at and she could feel his spirit pressing urgently against hers like some insidious, wet thing. With considerable effort she managed to prise her paws from his, kicking him backwards with a foot to his chest. The glow faded and he howled in anger, leaping for her, his once gentle face contorted in rage and anger, tiny sharp teeth glittering in reddened gums. She put up a paw to block him and was completely surprised by the unnatural strength he possessed in his own familiar battleground.

Renamon was knocked back, his seemingly blunt paws tearing deep cuts down her chest and side. She rolled easily, throwing him off and performing a graceful backflip up onto her feet. _This_ was the sort of fight she could deal with and she drew her lips back over her fangs in an angry snarl. The next time he rushed her she was ready and she pounded him with a fiery blue punch, smashing him into the floor.

She drew back her claws, ready for a second slash that would gut him like a fish but he was quick and leapt out of her way, running hard away from her. "I'll be back!" he screamed, his voice echoing around from everywhere. As much as she wanted to give chase Jason was her priority and she knelt down beside him, her paws hovering over his crackling body.

"What do I do, Jason?" she asked, her voice strained.

"It's got me," he mumbled, his voice barely recognisable from the rapid twitching that affected every muscle in his body. "Terriermon's the program. Behind everything. This… trap. Idiot… fell for it, again."

"Terriermon is gone," she told him urgently. "What do I do?"

"Too weak," he managed. "This is… end."

"Don't say that!" she hissed, daring to touch him and shuddering from the shocks. "Can I join with you? Will that help?"

"No," he managed. "Too dangerous. Infect you, too. Get out."

"I'll do it," she said, taking his hands despite the pain and trying to imagine what it was Terriermon had been trying to do. Outside of the simulated world she was much closer to the memories that had once made up Tesseract, and much closer to the wisdom and knowledge that brought. Her subconscious triggered the processes she needed without her knowledge or understanding and with an overload of sensory input she found herself falling down into the darkness at her feet until she was aware of someone else with her, inside her own body.

All of Jason's feelings and memories were suddenly hers, far too many to comprehend at once but their merged consciousness was at last strong enough to fight against the binds of Terriermon's trap that wrapped around their twin spirit. Its processes shredded in a cascade of lost data and they were free at last, standing united on the virtual plane.

Jasremon looked down in wonder at her strange, unfamiliar and alien hands, light yellow fur covering long, slender fingers, each tipped with a sharp black claw that glittered darkly. She flexed them experimentally, feeling the power in her new muscles. "We did it," she breathed out loud. "This sensation is indescribable. We are stronger than ever before."

It did not take them long to catch up with Terriermon as, despite his familiarity with the underworld, he was small and slow, pathetic compared to their combined and enhanced potential. A flash of light up ahead signalled the arrival of the two demon lords, summoned by their true master. Terriermon turned to them, presenting his back to the hybrid. "It is time, merge willingly or we will all perish," he said to them fervently. "We have lost our chance at true greatness, and now we must simply fight to survive."

Their merge was quick, sudden and violent, entirely unlike that of Renamon and Jason. Where a tiny and mostly defenceless digimon had trembled a moment before now stood the largest opponent Jasremon had ever seen, a towering, nameless fusion of wings, claws and weaponry. Shining red armour hid it completely from view and in each of its four arms was held swords of terrifying proportions, long and curved with a scimitar-like tips. Its head was studded with three pairs of eyes, their frightful red gaze turned on Jasremon.

It laughed darkly, mocking them. "You could have chosen to join me, both of you," it said. "You could have ruled over this world _and_ the real one. As one we would have been unstoppable."

"It is not your place. You would enslave everything, bring ruination to all," they replied. "It cannot be permitted."

"Then if I cannot have it, nobody will." The ground began to shake. "I tore Tesseract apart once before, I can certainly tear her world apart this time."

The two combatants met with a clash of steel on armoured skin, fireballs, lightning and blasts of energy flew with such intensity that they tore a rift into the world itself and both came bursting back into the dark landscape before the dark temple. They crashed into it, smashing through its thick walls and buttresses and collapsing the fragile tunnels underneath until they were left circling one another in the ruins of the great building, both bleeding and angered. With Jason's limitless connection to the substrate of the world, however, Jasremon had the upper hand.

They fought fiercely, decimating the area and laying ruin to everything nearby. The simulation engine itself was struggling to contain their battle, and unbeknown to them elsewhere in the world the rivers had dried up and the winds had stopped, even the daylight was fading as the raycasters were starved of runtime. Digimon struggled to walk, their limbs uncoordinated and slow to respond and entire forests vanished to be temporarily replaced with simple two dimensional representations of trees. The simulation was destabilising and coming dangerously close to crashing permanently.

Fortunately for the inhabitants of the digital world Jasremon brought the staggering demon hybrid to its knees and with one last swift kick to its head sent it crashing backwards amongst the rubble. Its body shimmered and began to dissolve, and along with it the very ground they stood on, too. Without Terriermon to preserve and anchor the inherently unstable dark zones they began to fall apart.

The battle over Jasremon succumbed to her own injuries, unable to hold her combined form together any longer and splitting apart into their distinct bodies. They were both deeply disorientated but Renamon came to her senses first and pulled Jason to his feet, half dragging him as she fled for the border. The land behind them began to fall away with a crashing, tearing sound that was louder than anything imaginable, felt rather than heard. The void was opening up rapidly at their heels, promising certain oblivion if they stayed around much longer. In an expanding sphere the destruction radiated outwards from the site of the temple, unstoppable and absolute. A thin, tenuous line of light was visible ahead of them as they approached the border, closing fast.

"We're not going to make it!" cried Renamon, tiring too quickly. Behind her the nothingness was gaining fast, snapping and sucking at her tail.

"Yes, you are," Jason said firmly, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and throwing her forwards with such force she thought she had been hit by a falling rock. The burst of speed was enough, however, propelling her through the air to land just inside the light side as the encroaching nothingness slammed up against the edge of the world with a crash of thunder. The ground shuddered underneath her but held steady and she let out a ragged breath, opening her eyes and looking up at the clear blue sky, a sight she had feared she might never see again.

She laughed out loud, ecstatic to be alive. "We did it, Jason," she said, rolling over onto her side. "Jason?"

Renamon sat up in the long grass, looking around curiously. He was nowhere to be seen. "Jason!" she called out forlornly. Her gaze was drawn uncontrollably to the dark void that crackled and hummed so close by. "Oh no…"

Renamon knelt in the soft grass, staring out into the darkness with round, wet eyes. The ground was still trembling slightly in the aftermath of the devastating and rapid change that had taken place. A short way along from where she knelt in shock the sheer cliff of dirt and rock began to fall away, huge chunks sliding slowly into the twinkling void with a terrifying kind of elegance. The collapse crept closer and she reluctantly backed away from the edge before she was taken with it. All around she could hear the rumble of the world falling away, the edges becoming ragged and uneven.

"Going somewhere?" said a voice from behind her and she spun around, mouth wide.

"Don't you dare do that again!" she shouted, punching him hard in the chest.

"Hey, ow!" Jason laughed, doubling over and holding his arms up to protect against her blows. "It took me a moment to find my way out. You're cute when you're sad."

She pressed her face into his chest, her tears now of joy instead of despair. "I thought I'd lost you at the last moment."

"I'll never leave you," he promised sincerely, gently tilting her head back to look at him.

"I know," she said with a sob. "When we were one, I could feel everything. I will never doubt you again."

"Glad to hear it," he said with a wink, running his hands over the fur of her back, loving the feel of her against him.

"I do wish you would have warned me," she grumbled eventually, rubbing her shoulders where he had pushed her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have a lot of time to think about it. Wasn't even sure it would work."

"What?" she demanded, holding him at arm's length.

"I just had a feeling that I could survive the void. I _know_ you wouldn't have. Turns out I was right."

"You idiot!" she snapped at him, scowling. "You could have died."

"But I didn't," he said, stroking her neck and shoulders with his fingers, soothing her. "I came back, to you."

She leant into his touch, unable to stay angry. "You are insufferable," she told him.

"So you've said before," he replied with a grin, kissing her softly. "And you're going to have to put up with me. Come on, we've got some holes to plug."


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue: **

"I don't get it," Bailey said, scratching his head. "You're saying Terriermon _was_ the Omega program?"

"No," Jason replied, rolling his eyes. They were sitting in Renamon's village, amid the bustle of a construction site. Many more intelligent digimon had appeared of late and a downside to Renamon's new, softer personality was that she had become exceptionally broody, unable to turn away a single one. Many laughing children of every species ran here and there, getting in the way of the construction teams and causing a nuisance. A few older digimon were trying, and largely failing, to keep some form of order.

"Terriermon was Tesseract's feelings of doubt, the thing that ultimately destroyed her. It was only a tiny thing, but it manifested itself in him. He was the first digimon to appear, and he was long gone before the others arrived. This is only speculation, but I believe that what happened was that her memories made him curious and unsatisfied with the lot he had been given. He wandered to the edges and created new land there, an ability the 'aspect digimon', like Renamon, all have.

"It was probably not that dissimilar to this place, to begin with. I bet he was a miserable little guy, alone and full of fear and uncertainty, always looking for the negatives in any situation. I reckon when Omega entered the scene he thought the worst and went to investigate. Possibly he was able to integrate its simple code into himself, but that corrupted both of them and he drove the cancerous, unchecked growth of the darkness from there. Ss he overtook the two warlike aspects that Tessa had hidden there they were awakened. He controlled them."

"I think I get it," Bailey said, diligently taking notes.

"What's it like up there?" Jason asked, changing tracks and raising his eyes to the sky. "Did I get a good funeral?"

Bailey gave a short laugh. "Yeah, was pretty good. Half the people there knew, though, so was a bit weird."

"What about the counter-digimon programme?"

"Stein's officially on extended leave, but I don't think he'll be coming back. The programme's got re-targeted. Objectives are all new. It's a shame, really, he was a good leader, but his mistake was tryin' to cover up his first mess and getting everyone into an even bigger one."

They sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes, watching the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees above. It was peaceful, once one cut out the noise of children playing, digimon sawing and hammering, and Renamon trying to learn to play the panflute.

"Can't you make her something quieter, maybe something with earphones," Bailey grumbled, a mock scowl on his rugged face. Jason laughed, watching her fondly across the clearing as she frowned at the primitive instrument, unable to make it behave how she wanted.

"I'm just glad she's found a new hobby other than killing things," he said, grinning. His expression grew more serious and he leant forwards slightly. "Have you had time to air my proposals to the new exec?"

"I put it past a couple of the liberal guys, but I reckon it's too soon. I've managed to get you a new server farm, though. Three, in fact. Two on the east coast and one inEurope. Should give you guys room for a bit of expansion."

"Wow, you sure pulled some strings there," Jason remarked, whistling slightly. "I guess your new rank gives you a bit more weight out there."

Bailey patted the golden star on the shoulder of his virtual uniform, feigning dusting it. "Not as much as I'd like. Get to shout more. That's about it. But a lot of the world is grateful to us for fixin' the internet for them. When you took out them dark bits the bandwidth dropped by two orders of magnitude. Coupled with the extra computing power everyone's been buying in over the last two years it's left the network faster and better than it's ever been. Getting favours out of people is easy, at the moment."

"Well, at least it gives us time to prepare and expand. But one day I'd like to get a few more humans in here. You don't know what you're missing out on, rattling around in those hamster balls. The neural implants could really benefit a lot of people in the real world, the terminally sick and the old. It could give them a new life here in the digital world."

"I'm behind you, all the way, man," Bailey said, patting him on the back. "But you gotta wait. Take it slow, it's too soon. People's afraid still."

"I suppose we need more time anyhow," he admitted, looking out into the forest. "There's still hordes of the dark digimon out there, although without any sort of master they've all turned feral and wild. We're cleaning them out one at a time, but it's slow going. Some of them are pretty powerful, and the world's got much bigger now the dark zone isn't penning it in. Natural growth's started up again."

"But nothing you can't handle, am I right?" Bailey said with a knowing grin.

"To tell you the truth, I've been keeping out of the way. I've had enough of fighting to last me a lifetime, I think. Besides, I like it here, it's peaceful, and I have some good friends." His gaze fell on Renamon again, who was in the process of putting the panflute down in defeat and walking their way. Her sleek fur shone in the dappled sunlight and Jason still felt the same insatiable urge to touch her, as usual. Her blue eyes watched him in a way he would have interpreted once upon a time as 'fiercely', but after so long getting to know her he could finally see past her intimidating appearance and see the wonderful spirit hidden within.

"Well, I'd better leave you to your 'peace', then," Bailey said with a single eyebrow raised suggestively. "I'll catch you around, Jason. Take care,"

"You too. Hey, foxy," he said warmly as Renamon came to sit beside him. He scooted closer to her, curling an arm around her waist and squeezing her fondly.

"I don't think I shall ever be able to play those things," she said with a shake of her head, rubbing her cheek fondly against his.

"Don't be so sure of that," he said, patting her paw with his free hand. "It took me years to learn, you've only been trying for an hour."

"Do you really think I can?" she asked him.

He nodded. "You can do anything you put your mind to, Renamon. Whatever you want."

She was fiddling with the crystal around her neck. He was amazed that she was still wearing it after all that time.

"You can get rid of that, as well," he said, pulling her paw away from it and kissing the back of it. "You've always had the power to create things, if you want a child you only have to reach out and create her. You don't need to collect all that data anymore. You don't need anyone else to help."

"Maybe that is true," she said with a small smile. "But, will you help me anyhow, Jason?"

"Of course I will," he replied tenderly, his face split by a wide grin. She kissed him deeply, her arms winding around his neck, drowning him in her scent and feel and taste, and he knew, without a doubt, that there was nowhere on Earth, or otherwise, that he would rather be.

**End**


	16. Author's Closing Notes

**Author's closing notes:**

Well, that was a nerve racking experience, let me tell you! I've been writing for years but never plucked up the courage to publish anything i've done. The fear of committing to something has been intense, knowing that once you've written the first bits and actually _published_ them then they're set into stone, and if i decide something is wrong later on then i'm stuck with it.

Thanks to everyone for the nice reviews and comments, they were also quite stressful as well. Seeing an alert in your inbox and wondering if it's someone picking your carefully nurtured story to pieces or not is a wild feeling! You've all made my day and encouraged me to write more in future, and more importantly to actually finish things! However, having said that, i'm definitely going to have a break for a few weeks before getting on with anymore writing. Doing Doubt largely took over my life for the past couple of weeks and i think my girlfriend would like my attention back :)

Annoyingly i've spotted a few typos, despite what i thought was quite thorough proof reading. I'm also aware that i make a bit of a hash of tenses at times, but hey, this is why i'm not a professional author :) There's also a few bits i would like to go back and change, but i am not going to. The whole thing with Renamon "drunk" is ridiculous now i look back on it, but i wanted her to explore her true feelings a little bit more, and she's reluctant to do that normally so it seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm also not happy with how Mack Bailey's dialogue came out in places, he was meant to be short and a little brash but i realise he might come over as a little inconsistent in places. Perhaps i should have split him into two characters, but it's too late for that now. Impmon was hard to write, and i think i might have given in to the urge to shoe-horn him in where it probably wasn't necessary.

I wasn't sure what to call them when they merged, either, they're clearly not Sakuyamon. At first i tried to write it without giving them a name, but that was next to impossible so i settled with the rather cheesy name that she's ended up with. She is a she because it was supposed to be Renamon in control but with Jason behind her. He was, after all, still recovering from his mistake and in no shape to take charge.

Finally, i'm a little bit concerned that FF thinks this story has about 3000 words more than Word thinks it does. If someone spots a great big bit that i've double pasted, please drop me a note to let me know.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

- Stik

**And now a few replies to specific people:**

**The Silent Insomniac**: Lack of reviews doesn't bother me _too_ much. Although, i do wonder sometimes, when i'm feeling cynical, if the lack of interest was because it wasn't rated "Ultra M+++" and there wasn't any smut within the first ten paragraphs :) I'm not really a fan of "lemons" myself, at least not unless they are extremely well written and actually have a plot. In terms of update speed, i won't publish anything that i haven't actually finished the first draft of. I'm sure most would agree that there's few things worse than starting to read a brilliant story, only to find that the author has abandoned it and you're left high and dry in the middle of a sea of drama and suspense :( I finished writing Doubt a few days before the first chapter went up, the rest of the time was just spent re-writing bits and fixing mistakes so it's pretty quick to publish.

**Johnny 2x4: ** I like to try and get a bit of depth into my stories, things shouldn't just fall automatically into place just for the sake of getting on with a basic plot. People (and digimon!) have emotions, and there will always be some conflict because of that. I think it is difficult to do correctly, but i hope i've managed to pull it off without making it too OTT.

**Something dictionary related:** It did get a little harsh in places, didn't it? Quite a lot of this wasn't planned that way at all while i was daydreaming it, but when i sit down to write sometimes my characters and plots just seem to get away with me and start writing on their own. I hope the conclusion to the story was cheerful enough to make up for it! I have to admit, reading it back in one go once i'd finished did actually bring a tear to my eye at one point :')

**childofthelord**: There is a prequel, however it's not really fanfiction since it doesn't deal with the digimon very much and is more focused on Jason creating Tesseract and the real-world implications of that. It's also nowhere near finished, but i was thinking of doing it properly as a short story one day and putting it online somewhere. Perhaps once i've recovered from doing Doubt i'll give it a go - watch this space :)

**JJoutlaw:** It can call for one all it likes, it's not getting it :P This was meant to be a sweet little romantic tale, and, let's be honest, poor old Renamon has already suffered more than enough abuse at the clammy hands (and other unnamed appendages :s ) of the internet!


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